Legends of Love Part 3: Waiting for Love
by BlueberryMuffins76
Summary: The continuing saga of Aragorn's line, meet his maternal grandfather, Dirhael. Love does not come easily to a man with a sad past, nor a woman who has all but given up hope of finding true love. Some chapters will be rated M for violence, but very few.
1. Chapter 1

_**AAAHHH! I am so excited about this! I have been anxiously awaiting the point to publish it! I do hope you enjoy it as much as my wonderful coauthor and I do. Please let us know what you think in a review! Further, while not absolutely necessary, we recommend you read the first two parts in this miniseries. Thank you! :)  
**_

* * *

 **Prologue**

Aragorn stirred his meal, his thoughts turning to the thick book in his saddle bags. He ate a quick meal and settled down to read. The title to the next entry was written in his mother's familiar delicate handwriting.

 _Waiting for Love_

He traced the words lovingly then looked down at the note written for him. Aragorn smiled as he read the words.

 _Dear Son_ ,

 _Here is the story of your grandfather, whom you may remember from your childhood. He was a honorable man from a great family. It is well that you should learn of his life._

 _Your loving mother._

* * *

 ** _PS: Aragorn's grandfather is one of my most favorite male characters of all time, but I am engaged and thus no longer fangirl like I once did. However, he holds a special place in my heart and I hope he endears you as well. My coauthor is absolutely amazing in writing and all her men are superb._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1: Family Life**

* * *

 _Hiss._ An arrow whizzed two inches above Erumeldir's book and one inch from his nose. He glared up out of his pages to see his twin brother standing several yards away. "Dírhael! Can you not see I am reading?"

The young man smiled, a dangerous gleam in his eye. "We leave for our first mission in two days, and I want to make sure my archery skills are as fine-tuned as they can be. Come on and practice with me! Tell you what: whoever has the five closest arrows to the center mark gets the other one's dessert tonight. Mother said she is making fresh apple pie."

Very tempting. However, Erumeldir continued his stony stare. "You interrupted me in the middle of a chapter! And don't give me that you've-already-read-that-book spiel! Fine, I will finish my chapter, maybe two or three, and then we can practice some."

Dírhael sighed, utterly unamused at his twin's typical behavior. "Fine. You have fifteen minutes to finish, and expect another arrow if you don't!"

"Is that a threat? You know what Father constantly tells you about shooting your arrows too close to me."

He laughed off the reprimand. "Just hurry up and finish that book!"

The flaxen-haired youth buried himself back in his own little world, still scowling. About ten minutes later, he carefully closed his book and laid it at the foot of the tree he propped up against. Dírhael smiled and handed him his quiver and bow, which he had retrieved from the house while impatiently waiting. He pointed to a large oak tree about 100 yards away. "That is our target. There is a knot basically in the center, as you recall, so that is what we aim for. I go first."

He stood at their mark and drew back the string to full stretch and released it, the arrow sailing straight and true into the knot. Erumeldir stepped up beside him and did likewise, hitting right next to his brother's arrow. The process repeated four more times, each arrow hitting the knot perfectly. Dírhael let out a huge sigh. "You are too good at this, brother! Now I don't get extra dessert."

Erumeldir laughed. "Serves you right for interrupting my book! Now leave me alone! We'll be together for our mission so you can talk to me then. But for now I want to read. Who knows when my next chance will be." He settled back down at his tree and finished his book in a couple of hours. Then the twins went back inside the farmhouse, where their mother, Cadoresa, had just finished cooking supper. "Will you boys go tell your father to come in?"

"Sure, Mother!" they replied in unison and headed out to the barn. Galad, their Ranger father, followed them inside a few minutes later, inhaling the delicious scent of beef stew, fresh bread, and apple pie which wafted together into a wonderful, homey aroma. The men's stomachs growled loudly and Cadoresa laughed. "Wash up and sit down. Everything is ready!"

Dírhael splashed water on his face and rushed eagerly to the table. Their sister, Hopeful, came to sit by them and placed a hand on Erumeldir's shoulder.

"Hi! How was your day?" Smiling, Erumeldir made sure he faced his sister and motioned with his hands so she could visualize what he inquired.

She smiled and made a fist with her left hand, circling around her right arm to indicate that she had a good day. She then pointed to Erumeldir's books. Dírhael touched her shoulder and acted as if he was reading and shook his head. He then mimed shooting Erumeldir's books.

Erumeldir scowled while their parents watched on in amusement. He told Hopeful about the contest, showing that they both won. "Now eat, honey." He pointed to her plate and then her mouth, shoveling a spoonful of stew into his own face.

Hopeful nodded and ate her food hastily.

Galad smiled and the family ate in peace. "Landon told me that you boys will be serving in a Shire Patrol," he stated as Cadoresa dipped up the pie.

"Yes. Can you give us any pointers, Father?" Erumeldir asked in a slightly wobbly voice.

"Stay with your group, keep your weapons sharp and near, and never think you are safe," Galad replied.  
He squeezed Cadoresa's hand while looking at their sons. "You'll do fine, both of you."

Cadoresa returned the silent message her husband sent her while she worked up the nerve to answer her son. Having a merchant father meant being used to her men going off on long journeys, and Galad knew she already worried about their sons' safety, even though they would more than likely not see any action. Breaking off the embrace, she smiled at the twins. "I have confidence in both of you! Galad has taught you well."

"Thank you!" Erumeldir smiled. "And you know we will watch each other's backs. That's what brothers are for, after all!" He playfully punched Dírhael's shoulder.

"No, I'll watch his back and he will watch his book," Dírhael teased.  
"Alright, you two," Galad smiled.  
Hopeful left her brother's side to curl up by the fire and fell asleep. Soon the family retired for the night, Galad carrying the sleeping girl to her bed before laying down next to his wife.

Erumeldir awoke refreshed and hurried through his meal. He had a little trip to make after breakfast. "Bye, Mother! I'll be back in a bit!" he called over his shoulder as he exited the house.

"Bye!" Cadoresa smiled.

Erumeldir strolled to the next farm where his friend from childhood, Astiwen, lived. He wanted to bid her farewell before his mission. When he reached her home, he knocked on the door with a steady hand. "Is Astiwen home?" he asked when her mother opened the door.

"Is that Erumeldir, Mother?" Astiwen shouted from another room.  
"Yes she is," her mother smiled Erumeldir.  
Astiwen came running out the door, drying her dripping hands. The wind caught her dark brown hair and tossed it playfully as she smiled at Erumeldir.  
"Don't go far," her mother instructed.  
Astiwen nodded and grabbed Erumeldir's hand, dragging him away from the house until they were out of sight. She released him and turned to face the young Ranger. Her soft brown eyes slowly filled with tears. Unable to hold them back anymore, she hugged Erumeldir, sobbing into his chest. "You can't go tomorrow! You just can't! There are all sorts of dangers out there and they might take you away!"

A tear slid down his own cheek as Erumeldir clung to his beloved. Not even Dirhael knew he planned to marry her in a few short years. Rubbing her back, he offered reassurances. "Sshh, sweetheart. I'll be fine. The Shire is a fairly safe place. I've heard it is rather unusual to have action there. And you know Dírhael will watch my back for me, just as I will do for him. Please, do not worry too much about me. That will make it so much harder to leave you!"

"Don't tell me it is safe," Astiwen cried passionately. "The Shire itself is peaceful; it is outside the Shire that you will patrol. It is outside the Shire that orcs and fell men roam. It is outside the Shire that our peoples' blood is spilled."

"Yes, and that really does not happen that often, sweetheart. I will be fine!" he assured her again. "I love you, Astiwen. I'll be careful so I can come back and give you a proper courtship, then marry you if you'll have me. You mean the world to me, sweetheart." He tenderly tipped her face up, placing his index finger under her chin, then lowered his lips to hers in their first kiss. She tasted slightly salty from her tears and he enjoyed the gentle way she responded to his touch.

Astiwen's eyes widened in surprise as Erumeldir kissed her but soon she found herself regretting the end. "Now you come back," she breathed.

He smiled. "I will! I promise! And when I do, you'll let me court you?"

"Yes," she laughed, "and no other until the end of my days!"

"Good! Do not tell anyone yet. I want it to be a surprise. And I assume I must ask your father's permission once I get back." He kept his arms about her, wanting to relish their time together as long as possible.

She melted into his embrace, wishing that it could last forever. The trees above swayed to some unheard music sung by the silence. Then she pulled away. "Mother will be expecting me."

"I know. I had better get you back home, then return to my own family before I'm missed!" He laced her arm in his and strolled with her back home, seeing her safely inside before walking back to his farm, a smile lighting up his face. Noticing Dírhael wasn't around, he took Hopeful aside and told her all about his visit, knowing she would be thrilled.

When Erumeldir finished recounting his outing, Hopeful placed a hand on his heart then wrote "Astiwen" in the ashes and drew a heart around the name. Then she clasped her hands and erased the heart and name with her brush.

Erumeldir put a finger to his lips while shaking his head and using Dírhael's name-sign, which consisted of holding up his hand with his palm facing outward and then turning it back inward.

Hopeful giggled and placed a finger on her lips. She then laid her head, which had begun to ache, in her brother's lap and her smile faded.

"What's wrong, honey?" Erumeldir asked, tipping her head to face him.

She clasped her head in her hands and shifted in his lap.

He gently picked her up and carried her to the kitchen where Cadoresa was fixing lunch. He already missed his sister almost as much as Astiwen, her gentle affections and how she needed more love shown to her than a hearing sister would require. "Mother, do you have some willow bark handy? Hopeful says she has a headache."

Cadoresa looked up with sad eyes to meet her younger son's concerned gaze. "Yes, I always keep some on hand. Hold on a minute and I'll fix her some tea."

"Thank you." He sat down next to the table, Hopeful settled in his lap.

Hopeful frowned when the tea was placed before her but drank it obediently. She snuggled against her loving brother.  
"She's been having the headaches more frequently," Cadoresa sighed. "The tea helps, but sometimes I think it's more than pain that hurts her head."

"Why didn't you tell me, Mother? What do you think is wrong? I know she's worried about me and Dírhael going out on patrol."

"Your father and I talked about it the other night, and we think she's lonely. I know we all try very hard to love and care for her, and she appreciates it, but she needs something more that we haven't figured out how to give her."

"Oh, Mother!" was all he could say, his heart hurting for his sweet baby sister. He stroked her soft hair as he and Cadoresa shared their time of grievance. Another tear formed, trailing down his face. He quickly concealed it by burying his face in her hair so his mother wouldn't see.

At that moment Galad and Dírhael came in for the noon meal.  
"Well here's the slacker!" Dírhael teased, "Supposed to go on a mission tomorrow and thinks he can take the day before off! Where have you been this morning, brother?"

Erumeldir tried to contain his blush. "Um, I had some, er, business to care for before we leave. Then Hopeful needed me. She's had a headache," he added, blue eyes darkened with sadness.

"You've been at Astiwen's," Dírhael shouted in triumph, noticing his twin's blush. "You're sweet on her, aren't you?" He then looked down worriedly at his sister and touched her dark waves. "Is she okay now?"

"I think so. Mother told me she's probably lonely since she can't communicate with us that well. I wish there was more that we could do. We all try so hard. I can't imagine how hard it would be to live life without hearing..." his voice trailed off, too choked to continue.

"I'd trade places with her any day," Dírhael murmured. "I think it would be easier for a man to be deaf than a woman. Do you think she will ever marry, brother?"

Erumeldir took a deep breath to calm himself faced his brother. "I really don't know. It will take a very special man to take her under his wings and cherish her all her days like she needs and deserves. If such a man is out there, perhaps. If not, you know she will always have a home with me, or you, if she doesn't want to stay here with Mother and Father. And you know if I could do anything to take this away from her I would do it!"

Cadoresa intervened, placing her arms around his shoulders, a mist clouding her vision. "Listen to me, son. We all take the very best care of her and she knows that. Try not to let it worry you too much. She was born this way for a reason, even if we don't see it. You're such a good brother to her, and she appreciates it." Reminded of her own brother, Thandraug, who had died after they were captured by some corsairs and shipwrecked, tears streamed down her cheeks. Having a deaf daughter was hard, but she wouldn't trade Hopeful for the world.

Galad placed a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder. Hopeful stirred and opened her eyes, glancing questioningly at her family hovering above. Dírhael smiled and placed a hand on his sister's shoulder.

Cadoresa quickly buried herself in Galad's chest to hide her tears, which flowed even harder now.

Erumeldir tried to tell Hopeful everything was ok, but she didn't seem to believe him. "I love you, honey."

Hopeful smiled and hopped down from her brother's lap. After making both her brothers close their eyes, she ran to the pantry, returning with a seed cake that she had made that morning.

"Thank you, Hopeful! One of my favorites!" Erumeldir smiled and kissed her forehead.

Hopeful grinned and her gaze swiveled to Dírhael, who returned her smile. Cadoresa served lunch, and afterwards they devoured the seed cake. The men got up to leave for work, satisfied as the empty plates rested on the table.  
"Are you coming, brother?" Dírhael teased.

Glaring at him, Erumeldir retorted, "Yes. Don't say another word!"

"I won't say another word. Nope, not a peep out of me. Not one single word," Dírhael remarked innocently. He ducked out the door with Erumeldir not far behind.

Snorting, Erumeldir set to work, knowing full well his brother would tease him yet again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2: Off to Training**

In the morning Erumeldir checked his satchel one last time before heading to the table for breakfast.

Dírhael dragged his pack to the door. He saddled Lightning, loaded his baggage, and returned for breakfast. After eating, Dírhael said farewell to Hopeful while his twin carried his things to the barn.

Astiwen sneaked away to her friend's home and found Erumeldir in the stables. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

He turned from saddling his stallion, Blaze. "Astiwen, sweetheart, what are you doing here?"

"To give you something to remember me by," she replied. She unclasped a golden chain from around her neck. Swinging from its end, the Dúnedain star hung and glimmered as it caught the sunlight.

A mist formed in his eyes. "Thank you, my love. You know I could never forget you!" He noticed her eyes were downcast with sadness and she could not look at him for fear of crying again. "Astiwen, look at me," he turned her to face him, a serious expression on his handsome face. "You have to quit worrying about me so much if you want to marry me. You know what being a Ranger is like and you will have to deal with my having to leave you from time to time, just like you do for your father. You know I will come back to you! Be strong for me, sweetheart." His features softened as he looked at her, smiling. "Come, put the necklace on me, will you?"

"I know," Astiwen sighed, "It just seems different." She smiled and swung the chain onto Erumeldir's neck. Suddenly a loud slam and tramping sounded as Dírhael came into the stables. Astiwen's eyes widened and she ran towards an empty stall to hide.

"Are you all packed and ready? I still need to tell everyone goodbye," Erumeldir stated nonchalantly. He hoped Astiwen would be safe hidden in the stall; how embarrassing it would be for his twin to find them alone! Tucking the necklace safely inside his shirt, he turned to face his brother.

"Yes. We are to meet Landon soon," Dírhael stated. "Where is the comb? Lightning's mane is ratty. I think…" Dírhael moved closer to the stall where Astiwen crouched.

"I'll get it! Hold on!" Erumeldir hoped his voice didn't sound too panicked as he moved to get the comb.

"It is alright. I am closer…" Dírhael started to push the door open when Astiwen jumped out.  
"Surprise!" she shouted. "Here are some sweet road cakes for my two childhood friends." She laughed at the startled expression on both Dírhael's and Erumeldir's faces. She handed them each a packet of road cake and granted them kiss on the cheek. "I wish I could go with you!" she bemoaned.

Erumeldir smiled. "We shall be back before you know it! Besides, you would not get any work done! You would be too busy exploring the Shire and meeting its people. Not to mention that you can hardly hurt a fly." Despite his twin's presence, he gave her a quick hug.

"Well, you two had better be on your way. Bye!" Astiwen waved goodbye and ran back to her chores.

Dírhael led Lightning out of the barn and to the house, where tearful farewells were said.

Erumeldir followed his brother out of the barn. After hugging both his parents, he turned to Hopeful, making sure his back was to his twin. Pulling out the necklace, he quickly explained about Astiwen, a huge grin on his face. Then he hugged his sister and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Once in the saddle, he kept turning and waving to his family until the twosome could no longer make out their forms.

"Well, we are going to be late…Unless…Race you to the lake!" Dírhael spurred Lightning forward, laughing and taunting his brother. They sped into the village where seventeen or eighteen men were gathered.  
Blaze needed no further instruction to gallop off after Lightning and soon the horses paralleled each other, finally stopping in front of Landon. "We're here!" Erumeldir shouted.

"Yes, I see," Landon drawled. He glanced up at the sun. "You were almost late. Mount up! We will camp in site of the Old Forest tonight!"

The twins rode after their leader and companions. The night passed on uneventful and they were off to the Shire the next day. Erumeldir rode up to Landon. "So, how does this gig work?"

Landon raised his eyebrows. "We stay out of site, search for orcs, demolish them if they are in small bodies, send a message to the nearest village if they are in large droves. On no occasion are you to show yourself to the locals. We camp at night and set sentries, with the scouts riding ahead. You and your brother are new to this so I will be watching your activities and see what you are best at. I see you are an archer." He glanced at Erumeldir's bow.

"Yes, sir! We would be happy to demonstrate for you if you want. But first, why are we not allowed to let the halflings see us?"

"It is our duty to remain unseen and to only show ourselves in times of great need," Landon answered shortly. "About your archery expertise, we will see when the time comes."  
Dírhael was riding with an older Ranger who remained silent during the trip. His brother was off with the leader and he didn't want to interrupt. Sighing, he urged Lightning a bit closer to Erumeldir.

The young man looked a bit disappointed. He finished the conversation and then it was time to set up camp. His stomach turned over as he laid out his bedroll, anticipating a brutal battle between orcs they had yet to see signs of. As exciting action sounded from the safety of his own home, now that he could possibly face it, he senses the danger he and his brother could truly face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3: Glycin**

In Evendim two days after the twins left, Cadoresa and Hopeful traveled to the nearby village for some shopping. The older woman hoped it would help to ease Hopeful's sadness over her brothers being gone. They had been around her entire life; Cadoresa noticed that ever since the boys left, her daughter's eyes held a sadness deeper than usual and sometimes the sound of sobbing could be heard in her room. She pushed her mind back to the present and tugged on her daughter's hand, pointing to explain they needed to cross the street. Getting distracted by some lovely fabric being displayed outside a store, she dropped Hopeful's hand and went to examine the wares.

Hopeful followed her mother slowly and stopped in the middle of the cobblestone to pet a cat. Unbeknownst to her, a wild team of horses rounded the corner at a full gallop. Women screamed and pushed their children out of the way as men shouted and pulled the women off the road. Hopeful looked puzzled as the cat ran away. People fruitlessly yelled at her to get off the street. Something hit her hard and the next thing she knew was that she was lying in the dirt and a wagon was going by at top speed.

Glycin made sure his body took the force of their fall as he tackled the beautiful young girl. "Are you alright, miss?" he asked. Looking down, he noticed blood flowing from a huge scrape on his left leg and hoped the girl didn't notice.

Cadoresa screamed and ran over. "Hopeful, sweetie, are you alright?" she asked, motioning with her hands. Once she found out she was unhurt, she turned to the handsome young redhead. "Thank you! My daughter is deaf, so she did not hear anything. Can you stay with her a minute? I have something to take care of."

"Of course, ma'am!"

Cadoresa indicated for Hopeful to remain with the youth and jogged off in the direction the wagon had careened. The driver finally stopped the runaways several blocks away, but they still reared and snorted, eyes wild and fearful. The angry mother marched up to the wagon, oblivious of the danger. "Excuse me! Just what did you think you were doing back there? You practically killed my daughter! If I ran this village, I would have you banned because you obviously cannot control your own animals and have no business having them at all." Her eyes blazed as her protective complex washed over her.

The driver looked helpless, "I am sorry, ma'am. I couldn't stop them; some dogs ran out and scared them. I tried, honest I did. It would have killed me to run over your little girl."

Cadoresa glared at him. "A likely story indeed. Make sure you get better control over your horses or I shall have to report you to our Chieftain Arador." She stalked back to where she had left Hopeful.

Hopeful blinked and turned to the young man, who still lay on the ground. It was then that she noticed his bleeding leg. Her brow creased with worry and she tore a strip of fabric loose. With skillful fingers she, with the help of a nearby Healer, bound the young man's leg. She pushed him down when he tried to sit up and shook her head.

"Oh, did you get injured?" Cadoresa asked the young man as she came up, noticing his bandaged leg.

"It is just a scratch. Your daughter helped fix me up. I am Glycin, by the way." He offered his hand and she shook it.

"You may call me Cadoresa, and this is Hopeful." She motioned some introductions. "I just cannot thank you enough for saving her life. Would you like to come over for supper tonight? We live only about a mile from here."

"I would like that. Thank you!"

Hopeful looked up at her mother, who told her that the young man was coming to dinner. She smiled shyly at the newcomer and followed Cadoresa to retrieve their supplies and head back to the wagon.

Glycin watched the pair walk away. His heart ached to reach out to Hopeful, to protect her from the taunts she surely faced. Having a soft spot for hurting creatures, he was one to rescue injured animals and nurse them back to health. Smiling, he recalled his mother scolding him on numerous occasions for having too many creatures in his room. Shaking himself, he retrieved his horse and followed the twosome back to their house, his leg still throbbing and making the entire trip painful.

Cadoresa had Hopeful go inside with some of their supplies while she put up the wagon. "Galad?" she called, and he poked his head out of a stall. She explained the day's events while they worked together to get everything back in place and rub the horses down. "And he is staying for supper," she added as Glycin stepped into the barn, leading his horse, Crispin.

"Good evening!" he pleasantly interjected as they directed him to an empty stall. "I am Glycin," he shook hands with Galad, looking him straight in the eye. He could tell this man was a seasoned warrior who would do anything to protect his family and instantly liked him.

"Thank you for saving my daughter's life," Galad smiled.

"I would do it for anyone, especially someone as sweet as Hopeful seems."  
Galad liked this young man; he seemed sensible and strong. "You are not of our race," he commented as they stepped into the house.

"I am from Rohan. I have never been this way before, but it is nice out here."

"Rohan," Galad repeated as they sat down to eat the thick stew his wife had prepared.

As was her custom when a guest was there, Hopeful left the table and sat by the fire.

"Why is she sitting over there? Did I frighten her somehow?" Glycin asked, his brow wrinkled and mouth turned down a bit.

"She does it when guests are here," Galad explained. "It is her way."

"Do you think she would come if I asked her? I hate to see her all by herself. She looks lonely."

"You can try," Galad sighed.

"Go on!" Cadoresa motioned. "She seems fairly comfortable with you, and we have never had a guest try this before. Just do not let it bother you if she wants to stay there." She squeezed Galad's hand under the table and sent him a silent message with her eyes, showing she wanted to see what would happen.

Glycin got up and crouched near Hopeful. Facing her, he spoke. "Do you not want to sit at the table?" He pointed to the table, then to her, then shrugged his shoulders and gave a questioning look, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.

Hopeful started; most guests only wanted to talk with her father and brothers. Their conversations only made the loneliness come out. She shook her head.

"Please?" He pointed to her and to the table again, trying to make her understand that he wanted her there.

She looked puzzled but gave way and returned to the table.

Glycin reached over and patted Hopeful's hand, smiling at her. "I am glad you came!"

Cadoresa grinned. "That is the first time she has ever done this! I think she is learning to like you, Glycin. Maybe you could come by more often? She needs a friend, especially now that her twin brothers are going to be having missions fairly often."

"I would like that, as long as you do not mind!" He turned once again to the beautiful girl. "Would you like to see me again?" he asked and attempted to sign it out, with some help from Cadoresa.

Hopeful nodded shyly; no guest had paid this much attention to her before.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Please R & R! We seriously appreciate your comments. I get very few reviews so it makes me quite excited to know some one out there cared enough to write to me. So if my stories aren't good, I would like to know!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4: Teaching the Speechless to Speak**

Back in Evendim, Glycin made his way back to Hopeful's house from the village inn in which he had been staying. He knocked on the door after breakfast and Cadoresa opened it. "Glycin! Come in! Are you here to see Hopeful?"

"Yes! Thank you! How is she today?"

"She is fine. She actually seems happier than she has in a while, thanks to you, I believe. You will stay around, will you not? Galad could probably find some things for you to do on the farm, especially now that our boys are becoming Rangers and will be going on more missions."

Hopeful smiled as Glycin came through the door. She put down her sewing and ran over to meet him.

"I would like that. I think I want to stay in this area, so I suppose I should find some land and build a house eventually!" He grinned as Hopeful stood beside her mother and took her hand.

"Good morning! How are you today?" he asked. Feeling a bit frustrated that he could not sign very well, he had taken the precaution to bring a small notebook, quill pen, and ink well, since Cadoresa had told him his new friend knew how to read.

Hopeful looked up at her mother with soulful eyes and slowly Cadoresa nodded. Hopeful then led Glycin out of the house. She beckoned him to follow her as she skipped through the high grasses. They were getting closer to the mountains and she disappeared behind a veil of trees. She slipped through the weeping willows and graceful beeches until she reached her goal: a pool, clear and glistening, from which a stream trickled away. The mountains loomed above and from their dark peaks flowed a waterfall that plunged into the pool. Rainbows of exotic colors floated in the misty air. The sun above shone down into the pool, its golden beams touching the blue ripples. It was Hopeful's retreat, where seeing was all one needed to do.

Glycin curiously followed his new friend as she led him into the mountains, the scenery growing more beautiful as they traveled. Carefully making his way to her side, he touched her arm and smiled, hoping that his face conveyed how special she made him feel, realizing this must be her private retreat. Laying his cloak on a rock, he motioned for her to sit, unsure of what to do except enjoy the lovely place.

After soaking in nature's beauty for a while, he turned to his silent companion. "Hopeful? Thank you for bringing me here. I want to give you something in return but do not know what. Is there anything you would like?" He tried to motion out the words and ended up writing everything down in his notebook; Cadoresa had told him while Hopeful could read words on paper, she was unable to read lips and never spoke, although she might laugh or cry from time to time. His heart ached for the family who had such a sweet, precious daughter and yet could never hear their names from her, nor could she hear her name from them. His blood boiled as he considered the previous guests who had ignored her just because she was deaf. She was just as much of a person as anyone else and deserved all the love she could get.

You are welcome, she wrote. I would like to speak if I cannot hear. But is not possible. Hopeful colored hotly as she realized her true heart's desire was written on paper.

Glycin smiled and gently patted her shoulder, then wrote furiously. After a minute he handed the paper back to her. Have you ever tried? I would like to see if I can help you with that. There was a man in my village back in Rohan who could not hear. However, he learned to speak a few words with some help from the woman he later married. While his voice sounded a bit different than that of everyone else, he was thrilled just to be able to tell his wife that he loved her. They told me he had to form the shape of the sound with his mouth, and then his friend would place his hand on her throat as he tried to say the words so he knew what it felt like. She also had him place his hand on her cheek when she spoke; apparently sound makes your face and throat vibrate a bit. Here, put your hand on my throat when I say "I", and then you can try it.*

Hopeful read what he wrote and grabbed the quill. I have not tried since I was young. She hesitated and placed her hand on his throat waiting for Glycin to say "I".

Glycin grinned and quickly obliged, saying, "I." Looking at her expectantly, he motioned for her to attempt her first word.

Hopeful tilted her head trying to understand. "Ach…Eee." The sounds were grating and rough. "Iii." She looked at Glycin with big eyes.

"You are doing it!" he grinned! "Try again? Put your hand on my cheek this time..." he gently laid her hand on his cheek and said "I" again.

A determined look on her face spread. "Eee…Iii…I…"

"Hopeful, you did it!" he cried! "Want to try something else?"

She shook her head and leaned over on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Glycin slipped his arm around her slight frame. "Are you alright? I did not wear you out, did I?" he asked, eyes filled with concern.

She shook her head and smiled faintly; it had been the journey. It was her custom to take a nap after walking all the way out to her special spot.

She looked sleepy. He let her use his body as a support while she rested. Keeping an eye out for any dangers, he pondered his sweet new friend as she napped. Cadoresa had told him she was born during the Death Winter, so tiny a baby they had been unsure she would survive. However, she consequently remained small her whole life, although that could have been in part because her paternal grandmother was five feet and two inches at full height. All Glycin knew is that he was excited to be able to know Hopeful better, to be let into her very private self. He absently tightened his arm around her, needing to protect and heal her.

* * *

 _ ***I had recently read a book called "Lisa and Her Soundless World" by Edna Levine and they used the same techniques to help her learn how to speak and read lips. I cried as I read because it was so precious & I, like Glycin, felt the need to love her and care for her.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5 : Tested**

Landon was pleased with his two new recruits. Dírhael was hasty, but an excellent tracker. Erumeldir doubted himself but proved to be a superb archer. Tonight he would test their night skills, but for now he would let them finish their dinner.

"What do you think of this patrol, brother?" Erumeldir asked.

"Alright so far," Dírhael crunched. "Not the excitement that I expected."

"Dírhael, whatever will I do with you? I did not really want any action. Although I am disappointed we do not get to meet the hobbits."

"Landon says it is protocol," he smacked. "I guess one must go abroad to have some adventure."

Erumeldir chuckled. "Oh, cheer up! We will get sent somewhere far off before we know it! I should rather like to visit Mirkwood..."

"Mirkwood?! If you plan to hunt spiders I will go with you. But if you are going to wander the Woodland Realm asking questions and reading books, do not invite me."

Guffawing, he choked out, " I want to do both! Why can you not learn to love books? Come on, does not the name Mirkwood intrigue you?"

"Yes. I think of lots of wonderful spiders to kill," Dírhael crunched.  
"You two!" Landon shouted. "Over here."

"Oh no! Dírhael, you got us into trouble again!" Erumeldir stuck out his tongue as they hurried to their leader.

"Come with me," Landon ordered. He led them away from the camp, twisting through the trees. Five miles later Landon stopped. "See that tree 200 yards away?"

"Yes..." Erumeldir hoped this meant what he thought it did!

"No, that one," Landon redirected his finger to point to a further tree. The light had faded and the tree was a dim blob.

"Yes, it has the large, twisted branches, like two trees have grown together. Do you want us to demonstrate our archery skills?" Erumeldir beamed.

"Yes. Hit the knot on the upper left twig hiding behind the curved branch."

Erumeldir whipped out his bow, aimed, and the shaft flew straight and true into the knot. "Top that!" he taunted his twin.

Dírhael shot and hit the knot.  
"Too slow, both of you," Landon criticized.

Disappointed, Erumeldir attempted a quicker shot and still managed to hit the knot, although not exactly where he meant.

"Now hit the tree that's behind you 300 paces." Full night had set in.

Turning, Erumeldir shot off yet another arrow and hit the mark straight on, although the dark played with his eyes and made him unsure of his target.

Dírhael barely made his mark. It was hard to see.  
"15 paces right! 40 yards north! Faster!" Landon barked

Spinning on his heels, Erumeldir again located and shot the target with ease, although his hands shook a bit. Would he satisfy Landon? This was a lot harder than he had expected.

"Enough. Follow me." He led them further into the woods. Two saplings six feet high and six inches diameter stood in the way.  
"Swords only. Cut them down," Landon ordered.

While Erumeldir was confident in his archery skills, he felt his swordsmanship was a bit lacking. However, he whipped out his trusty blade (which had yet to be named; he was waiting until it saw its first battle) and sliced at the tree, chopping it down with three strokes.

Dírhael was better with his sword. He diced the tree with an overhand then a backstroke. It was near midnight and the young man turned to his instructor. Who wasn't there. "Erumeldir, where is Landon?"

"How should I know? I thought he was here just a second ago. Landon?" he called hesitantly. Was this yet another test?

"Uh, Erumeldir…do you know where we are?"

"No...Do you?" Worried, he glanced about, but couldn't make out anything recognizable in the rapidly falling night.

"Yes…far away from camp," Dírhael sighed. He bent to the ground trying to find Landon's footprints, but he searched in vain.

"I probably should not tell you this now, but Father's teaching on how to find our way back if we ever get lost in the woods...I never paid much attention. Any ideas?"

"Yes." Dírhael traced a footprint…his brother's footprint from the looks of it. "I can trace our path back to camp, thanks to your stomping."

"Hey now! You make a whole lot more noise that I do! Just hurry up and get on with it. We are in enough trouble already."

"Least I don't leave much of a mark," Dírhael snorted. "Follow me."

Mentally scolding himself for not paying better attention to his father, Erumeldir followed his twin. He decided to keep quiet, knowing they would argue the entire way back if someone didn't give in. On the way, he tried to copy his brother's movements in hope of some on-the-job training.

Dírhael was surprised that his brother didn't respond but continued down the trail. He found where they had practiced archery and figured they were about 6 miles from camp. Finally, he made it back to the encampment, just as the sun peeked over the horizon. Snickers and turned heads met them as they trudged to their campfire, whose warm flames had been doused with water.

Landon sat quietly, eating his breakfast near his own fire that he shared with some of the upper officers. "You're late," he stated without looking up.

"I am sorry, Landon, sir," Erumeldir gulped. Then he moaned, "We will never be good Rangers!"

"Your archery skills are admirable, though Dírhael, you need to work on speed. Swordsmanship is excellent. Tracking is fine; Erumeldir, you need to work on that," Landon commented.

"I know, sir." He noticed Dírhael smirking and glared at him. "Well, what are our duties today?"

"Dírhael, I want you with the scouts. Erumeldir, you are with the archers."

"Yes sir!" Erumeldir headed off in the direction Landon pointed after playfully punching his brother's arm. Being separated from him would be a strange experience. However, he understood that their skills were different and thus required them to be with their respective groups.


	7. Chapter 7

_**WARNING!**_ **This chapter is violent. I believe it is still within the parameters of the T rating, but do consider yourself forewarned.**

 _ **And reviews are welcome and VERY much appreciated! Even a simple "I like it so far" is better than your silence...**_

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Ambush!**

 _Back somewhere around the Shire..._

Tobin stopped his horse and stared up ahead. The dark grey clouds blotted out the sun. He turned his horse to meet with the other scouts. "Thunderstorm up ahead," he grumbled. "The air is foul. I do not like it."

"You have always been pessimistic about storms, Tobin," one of the scouts drawled. He elbowed the new scout, Erumeldir, in the side. "This old man frets every time a cloud covers the sun." he whispered.

"This old man," Tobin warned, "has seen more orc battles than you have seen winters, boy."

Erumeldir glared at his companion and whispered back, "I think we should listen to him! He is the oldest one here..." Then he turned to the older man, "Tobin, do you think it means orcs are coming?"

"Orcs are always here, boy. It is when the sun goes dark that you feel for your sword."

Those cryptic words sent a shiver through the young man, both from excitement and a touch of fear.

* * *

In another portion of the trees outside the Shire, the scouts found evidence of a small band of orcs who appeared to be planning some sort of attack. The group leader, Coulter, stood after examining some prominent prints. "We need to warn the others at once! Prepare for attack!" He barked out orders for the various members to get the warning to the other groups. "Keep your sword handy and avoid combat unless necessary!"

An arrow, long and straight, made for an excellent back scratcher, Dírhael decided. He was stuck with the patrol while his brother learned some things from the scouts. Suddenly the lookouts burst down upon them. "Orcs!" they cried.

"To arms!" Coulter yelled to his men, joining the other captains as the troupes quickly rallied together. Harsh, guttural shouts assaulted the twins' ears as the ground trembled slightly beneath their feet. Making eye contact, as one they drew their swords as they made their way to each other's sides, the metallic clang sounding with the other blades being freed from their scabbards.

They had always planned to fight their first battle next to each other and Erumeldir was not about to disappoint himself or his twin. Besides, Dírhael was the better swordsman of the two; hopefully his skill would make up for Erumeldir's own incompetency. Unfortunately the darkness made it unsafe to use his bow, forcing him to engage in hand-to-hand combat. His heart pounded beneath the Dúnedain star around his neck and he briefly thought of his Astiwen and her loyal devotion to him. What was she doing now? Did she miss him as much as he missed her?

The ground trembled harder as the thick feet pounded closer and the goblins burst out of the trees towards the men, growling.

Dírhael paled as the orcs rushed their troop, but raised his sword and took a deep breath. His blade snaked out, catching an orc in its arm. Black blood spewed from the creature's chest as Dírhael's next stroke fell true.

Erumeldir had no more time to pine over his beloved as an orc charged at him. Sword held in front of him, he circled his foe and tried to calm the fears that threatened to wash over him. This was a real battle and one wrong move could mean he would not being going back to Astiwen's side like he promised. As the beast drew near, he lunged and neatly decapitated him in one fell swoop. He scooted close to his twin again, both watching out for each other like only brothers can.

A large beast approached while Erumeldir crossed blades with another. The giant, dark orc raised his sword to run the man through. Turning, Dírhael plunged his weapon into the orc's throat. His twin gave a small smile of thanks for a brief moment before more of their enemies swarmed forth.

Metal clanged again as a goblin fought Dírhael. The man's blade slashed a gaping wound into the creature's thigh, which doubled over in pain as black blood spurted out into a congealing, sticky mess on the ground. Watching with wide eyes, the man witnessed the light fade from the nasty black depths, emitting pure evil and hatred until he fell down dead.

They noticed the leaders and more seasoned Rangers combating a small party of orcs. Erumeldir wished he could fight as well as they; it looked easy, orcs falling left and right while his own people barely received a scratch. Doing his best to imitate his brother, he set back to fighting the orcs nearest him, wincing as a head flew from a body and rolled across the ground, the cadaver twitching before fully dying. Dírhael took the time to briefly punch his shoulder, giving a small grin.

The brothers now stood back-to-back after dispatching quite a few of their foes. Orcs dwindled in numbers and were soon gone, fleeing once they realized the Rangers would not allow them to win. Dírhael grimaced as he cleaned his sword of the slimy entrails and clotting blood. He sheathed his weapon before staggering a few paces and retching horribly.

Erumeldir followed his brother's lead and wiped his sword thoroughly on a clump of tall grass. Then he noticed Dírhael and ran over to him. Silently, he rubbed his back as he vomited. While he also felt sick, taking care of his brother was more important and he tried to be strong for his sake. Who knew Dírhael would be the one to react so much to a battle?

Dírhael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened. "I'm alright," he groaned.  
"Pile the bodies up and burn them," Coulter spat. "Are there any wounded or dead in the patrol?"

"Dírhael, you rest. I will help..." Erumeldir did not want to mention anything for fear of upsetting his twin even more. After giving Dírhael a quick hug, he strode to the decimation that lay before him and grabbed the leg of a corpse. He dragged the foul creature to the pile and returned for another one. His companions made short work of the task and soon a nasty stench rose in the air as the bodies burned.

"Are you alright?" he asked as came up to his brother.

"I'm fine," Dírhael grumped. He mounted Lightning and joined the patrol, who had survived the skirmish unscathed.

Sighing, Erumeldir swung himself onto Blaze's back and followed the group to await further orders. Being a Ranger was much tougher than he expected!

* * *

Several days later upon completing their week of Shire patrol, the twins headed back to their home in Evendim. "So, Dírhael, what is your take on our first mission? I for one feel like an utter failure!" Erumeldir moaned.

"At least you did not get sick on the battlefield," Dírhael bemoaned. Just ahead lay home, still peaceful and inviting. "Race you back!" he challenged.

Erumeldir grinned as he spurred Blaze forward, eager to get back home first for more than one reason! The horses galloped neck to neck, equally matched in both stride and strength, enjoying the race as much as their riders. They sped down the path and straight to the barn, where they had to slow and walk in. Dismounting, he slugged his twin and grinned. "We're home! It is good to be back!" Inhaling the pleasant scent of hay and manure, he jumped off Blaze and proceeded to take the saddle off, rub him down, and place him in a stall with fresh hay. His mind was only half on his brother's reply; he could hardly wait to see Astiwen again!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7: Return!**

Hopeful and Glycin sat at the table, the almost-unnecessary notebook in the middle. Glycin had taught her to read words as they were formed on his lips. Tales of wonder from his own country he told her, and she watched intently. That afternoon Glycin told her about a king who fought his enemies single-handedly until the winter cold froze him to death.

Smiling knowingly, Cadoresa pieced together a shirt for Galad. Shouts outside startled her and eagerly she raced to the door.

Glycin stopped and Hopeful turned to see what drew their attention.

Dírhael and Erumeldir burst through the door.

"Mother!" Dírhael shouted, picking her up and spinning her round.

"Dírhael, you put me down!" Cadoresa squeaked. "Give your mother a proper hug."  
Hopeful glanced at Glycin, who had guessed that the two young men were family. He nodded and she rose nervously. She crossed the room and took both her brother's hands.

"What is it, Hopeful?" Dírhael asked, almost forgetting to sign with his free hand.

"I….lovve…you….brothers." The sound was grating and harsh, but it was unmistakable.

Erumeldir stood with his mouth open a second, then recovered and enveloped his sister in a hug. Tears formed in his eyes as he heard her first words to him. Some people might think it sounded dreadful, but to him her words were spoken by the most beautiful voice in the world next to Astiwen's. "Hopeful, sweet one! How did this happen?"

Dírhael laughed and clasped his sister in an embrace after his brother.

Cadoresa stepped in and gave her younger son a hug. "We will tell you all about it over supper tonight! You have Glycin here to thank for everything." She motioned to the young man, who stood awkwardly to the side as he watched this intimate interaction. He crossed the room and extended his hand to the twins. Their mother introduced them. "Glycin, these are my sons, Dírhael and Erumeldir. Boys, this is our new friend Glycin of Rohan!"

"Pleasure to meet you!" they exchanged pleasantries. Erumeldir instantly liked the young man, if not for his pleasant face then for how his beloved little sister now glowed with happiness.

Smiling, Hopeful watched her brothers as they were introduced to her friend. Dírhael nodded at the young man who stood before him. "Now I cannot wait for dinner," he smiled, shaking Glycin's hand.

"Really," Glycin protested, "your sister did all the hard work. I just helped her along."

Cadoresa had slipped out to summon Galad from the fields and returned, clutching his arm. "Alright, if you all will clean up and sit down I shall get the food on the table!" Laughing as the twins punched each other's arms playfully, she quickly set out all the food and soon everyone gathered. They spent a good while talking, then when the stories of the past week had been exchanged, Erumeldir caught Hopeful's eye and winked. He slipped out the door and practically ran to Astiwen's house, only stopping for a few minutes to pick a small bouquet of assorted flowers for her. Finally, his knock was answered by her father. "Erumeldir! Do come in!" he welcomed as the young man stepped inside.

"Sir..." he started, extremely nervous now, "I would like your permission to court Astiwen. I love your daughter and wish to marry her one day, if that will please you."

Her father clapped him on the back and grinned. "I could not ask for a better man! Of course you may court her, with my blessing!"

"And mine as well," his wife stepped up beside him, also smiling.

"She will be happy to learn this," her father went on. "She has looked for your return."

"Tell him, sweetheart," his wife worried.

"Well…now?"

"Yes," she prompted.

"Well, Erumeldir, there is something else you should know," Astiwen's father sighed. "While Astiwen refuses to be courted by anyone but you, she has a suitor. Tarcil, the Chieftain's younger son, has been wooing her as well. I gave him permission to court her only because I knew not of your feelings. But when you were gone for the past week, I saw that there was something between you."

"What? No!" Erumeldir's eyes widened as he tried to process this drastic turn of events. The flowers dropped to the floor as his hands shook. Astiwen would not be stolen away from him. "I need to see her at once."

"She is not lost yet," her father exclaimed. He clapped him on the back, trying to assure him everything would work out fine. "Go win her love. You have my permission."

At that moment, Astiwen came in, her hair bound in a piece of fabric. "Erumeldir!" she exclaimed, running to hug him.

"Astiwen, sweetheart! I missed you so much. I thought you loved me and would wait until my return. Why have you not rejected Tarcil, told him that you already promised yourself to me?" He encircled his arms around her, the thought of losing her more than he could bear. His deep blue eyes looked into hers with a depth of hurt and sadness, yet also hoping the love he felt for her was conveyed and wishing desperately to see the same affection looking back at him.

"I do! I have tried but he is so persistent. Maybe your arrival will finally shake him off," Astiwen shot out.

His face darkened and he held her closer. "He will not take you from me. Your father has granted me his permission and blessing to court you. I wish to start immediately!" He looked down and smiled at her, then noticed the flowers strewn on the floor. Picking them up, he presented them to her. "I picked these for you...I dropped them. I am sorry they look so horrible now..." he trailed off and peered sadly into her eyes, grateful he noticed a faint glimmer there.

"They look wonderful," she smiled.

Her parents nodded to each other and retreated to the other side of the room. Astiwen fingered one flower in particular. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart. Could we sit on your porch together? I have some news to tell you about Hopeful!" He slipped her arm into his and led her out the door, settling down on the steps. Unable to resist, he pulled her close and laid his arm across her shoulders, wishing to protect her from whatever evil man was trying to steal her heart from him.

She snuggled against him. "What about Hopeful?" Astiwen listened enraptured as Erumeldir relayed the story. Finally, she retired and Erumeldir began the journey home.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I love romance! :D Isn't this adorable?! And my wonderful co-author did a great job with Astiwen; she tends to prefer writing men rather than women. And she is so good you should go to Ranger's Scop and read all her stories!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8: A Wedding!**

Erumeldir dashed around the room he shared with Dírhael. The past two years had been a blur of courtship, vying for Astiwen's hand in marriage. She remained loyal to him and disdained Tarcil until he finally walked away from her, bitter and heartbroken. But Erumeldir cared not as long as his sweetheart was truly his. Gathering up his things, he packed the last few items to be carried to his new cabin, which Glycin had helped him build. He had used the past few days to fill it with all their new furniture, housewares, and the like.

In turn, he had put labor into Glycin's cabin, which they finished first since he needed the place to stay. The two young men became fast friends, discovering how much alike they were. Glycin laughed when Erumeldir had refused to spend one night in his new home without his wife. But today it was finally time to make the gorgeous Astiwen his wife. At 24, he looked forward to a long and happy life with his beloved bride. Come to think of it, since his people lived to be around 150, that meant he could have a good 125 years of marriage! In sheer contentment he collapsed on his bed, a smile on his face as his wayward strands of flaxen hair flopped around and tangled.

* * *

"Mother!" Astiwen protested as the hairpin delved too deep, scratching her head.

"Sorry," her mother apologized.

Finally, Astiwen stood before her mother ready for the wedding.

"Oh, Astiwen," her mother sniffed. The mother and daughter hugged. "You are beautiful," her mother sighed.

* * *

Erumeldir took his time dressing for the ceremony. Looking in a small mirror he had borrowed from his mother, he tried to comb out his hair.

 _Tap. Tap_. "May I come in?" Cadoresa asked.

"Yes, Mother!" He let her in and she grabbed the comb from him. "Let me do that!" Closing his eyes, he rested in a chair while she untangled his blonde locks. Finally, she appeared in front of him. "Stand up! I want to get a good look at you."

A puzzled look on his face, he obliged. "You look so dashing, Erumeldir! Imagine this, my son getting married today!" She hugged him. "Things will not be the same without you."

"Mother, I shall live right next door! You know you can see me and Astiwen any time."

"I know. But we must not speak like this today. Dírhael, what do you think? Your brother is rather handsome, isn't he?" she smiled at him.

Dírhael, who had just stepped in, flopped on his bed and playfully examined his brother carefully. "You shouldn't have brushed his hair…it looks better tangled."

"Just because your hair is always messy does not mean mine has to be! Astiwen has to tell us apart somehow!" He winked as he punched his brother's arm, still grinning.

Cadoresa laughed. "If she cannot tell you two apart by now she has problems! Now finish getting ready. I'll go make sure Hopeful is alright." She stepped out, leaving the twins alone.

"My little brother getting married," Dírhael grinned, standing up to clasp his brother in an embrace.

"You know it seems like the best dream ever right now! You are not jealous, are you? It will be really different for me to be away, even if we will still see each other every day." Erumeldir pulled away from his twin, a look of concern suddenly on his face.

"I am not jealous!" Dírhael exclaimed. "Getting married has addled your thoughts." He slapped his brother on the back and laughed. "No girl has caught my eye like Astiwen did you."

"Aye, my thoughts are rather addled these days!" Erumeldir laughed. "Do not worry. One day you will see that beautiful maiden who will sweep you off your feet. Then you won't be able to think straight or anything. It is glorious!"

"Well I do not think that will be anytime soon. I plan to do some missions before that."

"Father met Mother when he was 72, so you never know," he smiled.

* * *

Standing nervously next to the Dúnedain chieftain, Arador, who had graciously agreed to perform the ceremony, Erumeldir awaited his bride. At last Astiwen appeared on her father's arm, looking more beautiful that he had ever seen her before. She gracefully glided towards him and nearly took his breath away as he took in her lovely features. Clasping her hand as soon as her father gave her away, he smiled at her, looking deeply into her eyes.

The chieftain began to speak, and Erumeldir repeated the words after him, meaning them with all his heart. Towards the end, his voice became choked with emotion. "Astiwen, sweetheart, I promise to love and cherish you all of our days. I love you." He glanced towards Chieftain Arador, who gave a slight nod, all the validation he needed to prepare to finally kiss his bride. In reverence to the special moment, he gathered his true love into his arms. Smiling, his gaze traveled to a small wisp of hair that popped out onto Astiwen's forehead. Erumeldir raised his hand and brushed the lock back into place, his touch tender and gentle. Moving his hand to the back of her head, he pulled her close to him and captured her lips with his, inhaling the sweet springtime scent of her geranium water perfume. Eagerly she met his caress as a rush of love swelled within his heart. Finally, he moved away, somehow sensing Dírhael start to snicker at him for taking so long.

The chieftain presented the newlywed couple to their guests and Erumeldir placed Astiwen's arm in his own to lead her through the small throng. His family stopped to congratulate him. Tears in her eyes, Cadoresa rushed to her son. "That was beautiful!" Turning to Astiwen, she hugged her. "Welcome to the family, officially! You have always been like a daughter to me. You know you must come over whenever you want, and don't even bother to knock! You are truly one of us now. I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too!" Astiwen exclaimed, returning the hug. She clung to Erumeldir's hand, her face beaming with happiness. Galad hugged his now-daughter and clasped his son's hand. Dírhael came up and shook hands with them both, but Astiwen drew him into a hug.

The meadow was cleared and torches were stuck in the ground. Musical instruments appeared in hands and soon lively tunes reverberated across the green grass. Erumeldir swept up Astiwen in a quick dance and they twirled around the makeshift floor. Another quick song struck up, hands clapping and feet stomping as the night came on and the torches flickered.

Gazing into Astiwen's eyes, Erumeldir beamed as they swayed around the field, noticing no one but his beloved. He was grateful when a slower dance came around, allowing him to hold his bride closer and occasionally slip her a tender kiss.

Looking out of the corner of his eye he noticed Glycin and Hopeful along the sidelines. During these past two years, the Rohanian taught her to dance a little bit. He would count the beats under his breath and she kept an eye on his lips so she was able to keep the beat as long as Glycin counted.

As the last few measures of the Nêldringalilta* ended, Erumeldir turned Astiwen to face him and lowered her, his arms supporting her weight as he leaned down and kissed her soundly. "I love you, sweetheart!"

"I love you too."

Suddenly another lively song erupted, but this time everyone knew it by heart. "Steal the Bride and Perhaps a Kiss", a favorite wedding piece. Astiwen laughed as she was "stolen" and whisked across the meadow.

Erumeldir snatched Astiwen several times within the dance, constantly rushing around as he tried to keep an eye on her. Although she obviously enjoyed herself, he found himself rather jealous, unless her partner was her father, his father, his twin, or Glycin. Astiwen laughed and dodged kisses from everyone except her father and her husband. Laughter rung from the sidelines as the women clapped and joined with a partner-less man.

About halfway through the dance, Erumeldir noticed Dírhael standing off to the side, watching, and grabbed him. "Dance with Astiwen for me? I want to get Hopeful!" Pushing his twin towards the other dancers, he made his way to his sister. "You've been evading me tonight!" he teased. "I want you a minute, then I'll get back to my bride. Are you having fun?"

Hopeful nodded happily and swirled round her brother. Dírhael laughed as Erumeldir started the Circle Dance clumsily but rushed over to help him.

"I asked you to take care of Astiwen! I'm fine here!" Erumeldir chuckled, attempting to scowl but having too much fun to succeed.

A few minutes later, Glycin popped up beside him and grabbed Hopeful. "I have her! Go, be with your bride!" he winked.

Slapping Dírhael on the back, Erumeldir thanked his friend. "You are a lifesaver! Unlike someone else here!" He stuck his tongue out at his twin before rushing back to find his bride.

"She's fine!" Dírhael yelled over his shoulder. He retreated to the edge of the party. He sighed and collapsed on the ground, watching the dancing couples with eager eyes. The night wore on and the stars twinkled above. This could go on forever and I wouldn't complain, he thought, smiling.

Glycin once again took Hopeful in his arms and danced a bit more. Then he stopped. "Would you like me to get you anything?" he asked as he led her to the sidelines, sensing she was tired.

She shook her head and sat down on the grass. She placed a hand on his throat to feel his words.

"Let me know when you are ready to go home. Ishall walk you so your parents can stay here. Are you tired?" He knew the event had to be uncomfortable for her, since people tended to shy away from her. They just didn't understand. How he wished everyone would realize how much they missed out in not befriending her!

She smiled and shook her head; she enjoyed watching. She traced words onto his hand since he couldn't see the paper.

"You at least need something to drink. Stay here. I will be right back." He left her side and returned in a minute with a drink for both himself and her, then settled beside her. Although he would have liked to dance more, making sure Hopeful was taken care of was much more important to him. Dancing would come again.

On the other side of the field, Cadoresa had captured her husband. "Is it not wonderful, my love? I am so happy for them!" She beamed as they twirled about.

"Yes," Galad replied, "they look so perfect. As do you." He kissed her lightly on the forehead and they swirled around a torch.

Finally "Whisk the Bride Away" struck up, the last round, and with some effort Erumeldir fought his way to and captured Astiwen, literally sweeping her off her feet. Gathering her into his arms, he ran all the way to their small cabin. His hands fumbled in the dark as he tried to open the door. He jiggled it a few moments and at last it swung open. Quickly shutting the door behind them, he nuzzled her nose as he settled into a nearby chair with her. "We're home, my love!"

They kissed and Astiwen snuggled down into his warm lap. "Nothing can separate us now," she smiled.

"Never!" He captured her lips again for a long caress. At last, he pulled away. "I love you so much, sweetheart! I am the happiest man in the entire world right now!"

* * *

*Literally, three-beat dance, which is essentially a waltz.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9: The Unexpected**

 _ **WARNING! This chapter is rated M for violence. It is essential to the story so if you need a T rated version, please message either me or Ranger's Scop and one of us will give you the short version.**_

 **A/N: The latter portion of this chapter only withstood one round of editing with very little revising. So please ignore and bear with any mistakes that may have been made there. I am emotionally unable to do anything further with this chapter.**

* * *

 _3 months later…_

"Dírhael, grab that beam! Erumeldir, catch that rope! Steady…there!"

The large pole slid into place and four sweaty men smiled as the first of many poles for the new fence was set. The sun broke up the dark night into pieces of shadow and remnants of breakfast were being thrown to the chickens.

The women chatted as they cleaned the kitchen then took out their sewing.

"How is your farm, Astiwen?" Cadoresa asked.

"Wonderful!" she beamed. "The stock is healthy and the crops are growing."

Outside, the men worked steadily until noon and made great progress on the fencing. Then they cleaned up a bit before heading inside for the scrumptious meal that awaited them.

"Astiwen!" Erumeldir cried as he picked up his sweet wife and spun her around. His lips brushed her ear and he whispered, "I love you, sweetheart!" Then he kissed her long and sweet, totally oblivious to those around him.

Dírhael snickered, elbowing Glycin and pretending to gag. Cadoresa knocked him over the head with her wooden spoon.  
"Alright _children_ ," Galad chuckled, "to the table!"

Leading his wife to the table, Erumeldir sent a glare his twin's direction.

"Pay him no mind," Glycin grinned as he playfully punched Dírhael's shoulder as he faced him. "Just think, one day we'll both probably have wives of our own, then we can embarrass him!" He turned to explain everything to Hopeful, who gave him a funny look before grinning at Erumeldir.

"How is the work?" Astiwen asked.

Sharing a smile with his sister, Erumeldir then turned and beamed at Astiwen as he laced his fingers through hers under the table. "It's going quite well, sweetheart. I hope that we will finish today, although we shall have to wait and see."

Glycin noticed them holding hands and nudged Hopeful, glancing down and back up just enough so she could understand his silent message. He found the whole thing quite sweet but wouldn't admit that to anyone except her.

Cadoresa exchanged a knowing glance with Galad as she and the other women finished setting the food on the table before seating themselves and passing it around.

Astiwen smiled and winked secretly.

"Do you think we can finish the pen today, Father?" Dírhael asked.

"Possibly," Galad answered, "we can finish it this afternoon."

"…And if Erumeldir will actually work and not pine away for his bride," Dírhael added with a snort.

"Hey!" He punched his brother's arm as he grinned. "You just wait until you have a sweet wife like mine to come home to! You would pine away for her too. Then I will laugh at you!" To prove his point, he slipped his arm around Astiwen's shoulders as everyone except Dírhael smiled at them. Good humor and laughs were shared the rest of the meal, and all too soon it was time for the men to return to their work. Erumeldir slipped his wife another kiss before going back out, where he tried to keep his mind on the work. The sun worked its way across the sky and down into the tree line as the last post fell into place. Dusting off, the men stepped back to admire their work before cleaning up and going inside for another meal. The couples broke off and returned home, leaving only the family and Glycin.

Galad and Cadoresa waved goodbye as Erumeldir and Astiwen cantered down the long dirt road. Hopeful came from inside carrying Astiwen's sewing.

"Oh dear," Cadoresa sighed. "Dírhael, jump on Lightning and catch up with them. She will need this to finish Erumeldir's shirt."

"Yes, Mother," Dírhael shouted over his shoulder as he raced to grab his horse.

* * *

Erumeldir and Astiwen galloped down the dirt road that wound through the hills to their home. Blaze surged ahead, nearly making Erumeldir lose his balance. When he succeeded, he turned Blaze around, facing Astiwen and Diamond. A look of horror filled his face as he watched her topple from her horse, a black arrowhead sticking out from her throat. Her face filled with shock and confusion as if she didn't know what had just happened.

"No! Astiwen!" he cried hoarsely.

He jumped off Blaze's back and raced to his dear wife's side. Dropping to his knees beside her, he cradled her in his arms, tears careening down his cheeks in wet streams. She was still alive, but barely. Blood ran down from the gaping hole in her neck onto her brown dress splattered with mud.

"No," Erumeldir whispered, stroking her dark head.

"I…love….you," she choked.

"Don't leave me." He kissed her cheek and forehead, his hot tears dripping onto her face.  
She smiled wanly; a shudder ran through her body as life fled her body. Her last breath rattled and drowned in the pools of blood that flooded upward. Erumeldir bowed his head, sobs racking his body. The love of his life gone taken by…He glanced at the arrow embedded in his sweetheart's neck. "Orcs," he cursed.

But the more he thought about it, the more the situation didn't fit. If it were orcs they would be swarming in, trying to cut him down. More likely an assassin. His head shot up as full realization set in and he vaulted up. Erumeldir glanced around, hastily scanning the dark shadows falling as the sun set behind the trees. Suddenly, he jerked violently as a cold, cruel blade drove into his back. Shock filled his face, as it had his wife moments before. A voice cold and dark whispered in his ear.

"Feel this, son of Galad? This is for taking the woman I loved. And for that I will take my anger out on your beloved family. Think about you beloved brother, this knife sliding into his back. Your dear parents, one at a time. That little sister of yours, she won't even hear me coming. That friend of hers, if he gets in the way."  
Erumeldir choked, "They are better warriors, my brother and father; you wouldn't make it."

"Oh I won't meet them in hand to hand combat," laughed the voice. "I'll stick them in the dark when all the lights go out."  
He jerked the blade out of Erumeldir suddenly. The knife stuck halfway and the killer had to tug it out. Erumeldir's face contorted in pain as the blood gushed out of the wound. A deep guttural chuckle sounded behind him as he collapsed to his knees.

"No one will know that you were murdered by anything except an orc. Your wife has an orc arrow in her throat and very soon you will have an orc blade in your back. I prefer my own knife for the dirty work; I'll just leave the evidence…"

The killer spun around as hoof-beats sounded down the lane. Erumeldir heard the hard metal scratching against a scabbard as the assassin drew his sword. He wanted to shout a warning or something, but he couldn't find his voice, choked away by the blood rising in his throat.

Dírhael galloped round the corner and surprise filled his face at the scene before him. But before it could all sink in, Lightning stumbled as the killer slashed his front legs out from under him. Dírhael had little time to leap from his horse as Lightning fell breaking his neck on the hard ground. The poor horse's back legs thrashed as well as the two stumps remaining of his front legs, which poured dark, oozing blood. Dírhael rolled and jumped up, sword drawn and faced the killer.

"Tarcil!" he gasped.

"Who else?" the man smiled.

Their swords crossed, the sharp steel ringing as the blades slid against each other. Minutes of breathless fighting and not a word was spoken, each man expertly taught in the art of swordsmanship.

"You brother told me that you were a better warrior before he died," Tarcil growled. "I think he was mistaken."

"Died…" Dírhael stammered letting his guard slip away.

He groaned as Tarcil's sword slammed into his side, slicing deep, but not fatally. Dírhael staggered a few paces, grimacing, and he raised his sword –but it was too late. Tarcil swung his sword hilt hitting Dírhael over the head, once, twice, the third time barely missing his left eye. The young man rolled in the dirt path, his vision swaying and blurring as blood trickled down his cheek. For a moment, his vision cleared and he saw his brother lying face down in the dirt, blood puddled under him. Anger welled in his heart and turning around, he charged Tarcil, yelling.

The two men rolled on the ground daggers flashing in the fading sunlight. Blind rage clouded Dírhael's thoughts and he stabbed at the blurred figure beneath him. A snarl and grunt assured him that some of his strokes had struck true. Finally, Tarcil grew limp, bathed in Erumeldir's, Dírhael's, and his own black blood.

Dírhael rolled over, struggling for breath; the world spun and tilted and yet he managed to crawl to his brother's body. His heart leapt within him when her heard Erumeldir's ragged breaths, but it sunk when he saw the wound. He struggled and rolled his brother over, grasping his freezing hand.

Erumeldir coughed and struggled for breath. "Don't…let…him…get…mother…or…father…don't let him…get Hopeful…or….Glycin." he struggled to say. The trickle of blood running out of his mouth increased and he wheezed.

Dírhael grasped his hand, trying to shut out his own pounding head in order to focus on his dying brother. "Erumeldir don't go," he whispered despairingly.  
"Just keep them…..safe," Erumeldir murmured. "I…couldn't." He sighed and life fled with his last breath. His blue eyes stilled and death covered his face like a veil.

A veil that Dírhael wanted to rip off, but knew that he couldn't. "No." he sobbed.

His head throbbed and the side wound was taking its toll on him. Dírhael groaned and tried to crawl to his dead horse, but he passed out from lack of blood and grief. Darkness covered the land and his heart like a blanket of despair even Mordor couldn't rival.

* * *

 _ **A/N: And that, my dear readers, is why I simply could not edit more than once. This chapter is much too emotional; I spent 15 minutes crying when I had to edit it! So again, forgive me if it needed more; I am the one responsible for most of the editing/revising, so the blame lays on my shoulders.**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10: Death Lingereth at the Door**

"Where is Dírhael? He should be back by now." Cadoresa asked as she peered out the window for the umpteenth time.

Galad opened the door and peered out, concern wrinkles creasing his forehead. A whinny broke the still night. Blaze trotted up, still being used to the old family stable despite his three months at his new home. Cadoresa watched as Galad grabbed the horse's reins and quickly examined the beast.

"Do you think they were attacked?" Her voice became more frantic.

Galad buckled his sword around his waist and kissed his wife on the forehead. "I am going to make sure they were not," he whispered.

"Be careful!" she begged, pulling him close to press her lips against his.

It was thirty minutes before Galad came back, grim and silent. He made no mention of his return to the family and quietly hitched the plow horse to the wagon.

Cadoresa rushed out when she heard Galad coming up the road, nigh unto an hour and a half since he left. She let out a horrified scream, full of agony, pain and sorrow. Nearly fainting, she beheld and registered the contents of the wagon. Husband and wife embraced, Cadoresa's sobs racking her strong body. "No, no!" she moaned, aching all over.

"Courage Cadoresa," Galad choked. "Dírhael still draws breath, but barely. Help me get him into the house."

"Erumeldir, Astiwen, are they…" She couldn't bring herself to say the word, knowing the truth.

Galad nodded and hugged her again before turning to their remaining son.

Hopeful saw her father and mother come in carrying Dírhael. A frightened squeak escaped her lips and she rushed to the bed where they had laid her brother.

The young man's eyes were rolled back into his head and blood stained his nose and lips, smearing across his chin. His side contained a large gash; Galad had wrapped a hasty bandage around it when he had discovered his son's still breathing body. Already Dírhael's left eye was swollen and a nasty jagged cut, caked in mud and black blood, ran down his left temple.

Cadoresa worked hurriedly as her skilled fingers cleaned and wrapped her son's wounds. Hopeful hovered over Dírhael and Galad took two black coverlets out of the family chest; they had lain at the bottom for a long time, where they should have deteriorated rather than been used.

Cadoresa put on the last bandage and left the battered Dírhael in Hopeful's charge, returning outside to help and support Galad. He stood by the wagon, staring with tear-brimmed eyes. "It is hard, to bury one's own children," he murmured.

Words stuck in Cadoresa's throat and she laid a hand on his shoulder.

Hopeful came streaking out of the house to tell her mother that Dírhael had developed a fever but she stopped, shocked at the wagon. A cry, more animal like than human, escaped her lips as she crawled into the wagon and collapsed on her dead brother's body, crying. Cadoresa's lip quivered and she buried her head into Galad's shoulder. Then, remembering Dírhael, she raced back into the house.

* * *

The next morning, Glycin knocked on the door. Time and again the family told him just to come on in so he could share breakfast, yet he still had trouble bringing himself to doing that.

A pale Cadoresa opened the door, her eyes red-rimmed and nose red, looking as though she had not slept for a week.

"What is wrong?" he asked, for he had never seen her in such a state.

"Come and sit down. I shall try to tell you." She started sobbing again and embraced him in a hug, needing someone to help support her.

Confused, he wrapped his arms around her as he would his own mother.

Sniffing, she stepped back and sat down, with Glycin following suit. "I…I am not sure how to tell you this, Glycin."

"It is alright. Take your time and go slowly."

Choking, she began the gruesome tale of the night before, frequently taking breaks to blow her nose and compose herself for the umpteenth time.

Glycin's eyes widened as she explained about the deaths and that Dírhael was gravely injured. He got up and hugged her again, tears shining in his own eyes. "Do you have any idea who did this?"

"We identified the body as Tarcil, the Chieftain's younger son."

"What? I do not understand…"

"He wished for Astiwen's hand in marriage, but Erumeldir," she choked on her beloved son's name and paused for a minute. "My son won her heart long ago. If I could only have gotten my hands on that foul Tarcil while he was alive! I hate him so much! How could he do this? He took away two precious young lives who had a whole future before them! Now they will never live to see another day, and I might lose my other son as well!" The old anger she tried so hard to conceal came back and she desperately wished she could go out and beat Tarcil's lifeless body.

"May I see Dírhael? And how is sweet Hopeful? They were so close," he mused, wishing he could take the pain from his friends.

"Yes, please do. He would like that." She started to get up, but Glycin motioned for her to stay.

"I know the way to his room. It is fine."

"Hopeful is probably there now. She wanted to stay with him all night and I did not have the heart to make her go to bed. See if you can persuade her to at least take a nap?"

"That is the least I can do." He made his way to the room he had oft visited, sharing some male bonding time with the twins. Knowing Hopeful could not hear anyway, he stepped in without knocking. He found Hopeful beside the bed, holding Dírhael's motionless hand. He tiptoed over to her and laid a hand on her shoulder, unable to look at the injured man just yet. "Hopeful, sweet Hopeful, are you alright?" he asked, his voice tender and gentle, choked with emotion as the tears welled in his eyes.

Hopeful sprang up and buried her face in Glycin's shoulder, sobbing until her heart ached.

Glycin wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back, resting his head against hers. Tears formed in his own eyes and streamed into her soft hair as he tried to give his friend the only comfort he knew how to give. His heart ached especially for Hopeful. He knew Erumeldir was slightly closer to her simply by watching them together, even though nothing was ever said about it. He wished it had been him to die instead of his friend, since he had no family to speak of, no real home, and no wife. Why did Eru allow such things to happen to such good, kind people?

Hopeful relinquished her hold quickly as Dírhael moaned and bent worriedly over his prone figure. She rubbed her eyes sleepily after trying to give the wounded man a drink.

Noticing her fatigue, Glycin once more turned her to face him. "Hopeful, you have had a long enough turn. I will stay with your brother while you get some rest. It will not do him any good if you strain yourself too much and end up ill as well." He spoke slowly so she could read his lips, his eyes giving off a sad and concerned expression.

She nodded and walked heavily towards her room, too tired to argue.

Once Hopeful had retired, Glycin finally allowed himself to look at his friend. He gasped as he realized the extent of Dírhael's injuries. Half his head was swathed in a large bandage and the rest of his face would sport some nasty bruises for several days. The wounded man switched from sweating profusely to shivering in his fevered state. Spotting a glass of water on the bedside table, Glycin carefully lifted his friend and tried to pour some water in his mouth, sensing his thirst. He succeeded in getting his own arm wet. Then he noticed the spoon which sat next to the cup and attempted to use that instead. After three spoonfuls, Dírhael thrashed around, moaning and mumbling, and Glycin barely got the water back on the table in time to keep it from being spilled everywhere.

"Shh, Dírhael, it is me, Glycin. I sent Hopeful to bed…She will come back to see you later." He placed a hand on his friend's arm, hoping the touch would calm him along with his voice. What could he say? It would be a lie to say everything was alright, that everything would be fine when he got well. "Dírhael, please stay still. You cannot get well if you keep thrashing around like this." Hopeful had showed him the nasty wound in his side before taking her leave, so Glycin checked to make sure he hadn't torn the stitching.

Although he had duties at his own small cabin, he knew staying with Dírhael was more important. His tasks could wait while the hurting family could not. If only it were he that had died in Erumeldir's place! He had learned about Galad's deceased parents, and Cadoresa's late father and brother. Now they had lost their dear son and daughter-in-law. They were such a close-knit group, unlike his own family.

Shaking himself, Glycin focused on the present. Dírhael still sweated and moaned, so he offered him more water. This would be a long day, but he would not fail anyone else.

 _Swirling darkness and fire, an everlasting devouring fire that encircled him. Voices crowded his heated mind. Blood pooled about his ankles sucking the life out of his soul. He could not get out!_

Glycin sat with Dírhael several hours, checking his wounds and changing his blood-soaked bandages from time to time. Then Cadoresa knocked and entered. "Thank you for staying with him, Glycin. I needed the rest. How is he?"

The young man looked up at the grieving mother, her eyes still rimmed with red and the deep pain reflecting within their blue depths. "There has been no change. I am sorry. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No. Just giving me some time was more than enough. However, I would ask that you take special care of Hopeful in these coming days. She and Erumeldir were extremely close, as you know, and I am afraid for her." Tears once again streamed down her cheeks, and she made no effort to hold them back. Glycin got up and embraced her; she made him think of his own mother. "Glycin, Hopeful has never really had friends until you came along. Her brothers, Galad and I were all she had, and somewhat Astiwen. But now, two of them are gone."

Rubbing her back, the young man sighed as a mist formed in his own eyes. "I will. She is a dear friend to me. I need to check on some things at home, but I will return later. Send someone for me if you need me, alright?" He stepped back and looked her in the eye.

"I will. Thank you, Glycin." He left the room, his heart weighted down within him and his steps dragging.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I promise there is a purpose behind this! We did not kill people off just to give you an emotional overhaul. I begged and pleaded with my coauthor to figure out some other way, but this is how it has to be. So please stick with us!**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11: Broken**

Back in Dírhael's room, his mother took her place beside him and covered his hand with hers. "Dírhael, my sweet son, I love you. Please, get well for my sake, and Hopeful's. We need you!"

"Any change?" Galad asked, stepping in. His eyes seemed ancient, filled with the hard blow that had smote the family. He laid a comforting hand on Cadoresa's shoulder.

 _A cruel blade sped towards him, no escape!_ As Dírhael's hand clenched the bed, his knuckles grew white with straining. His eyes popped open but they did not see what was before them. Pain contorted his features and a strangled cry escaped his lips.

"Dírhael, sweetie!" Cadoresa cried. "Mother is here." She checked his wounds for the umpteenth time before turning to her husband, her eyes glazed over with grief. "No, my love. He is the same." She turned and buried herself in his chest and snuggled there a moment, needing his warm strength. Even losing her father and brother hadn't been this hard, a time when she thought she wanted to give up life itself. Her brother, Thandraug, had always been close to her and died in her arms. He left her on an island, alone – that is, until she met Galad.

At last, she composed herself. "Will you stay with him? Perhaps some feverfew tea will help. It should at least calm his pain."

"Yes, darling," Galad murmured. He took a seat by his son, rubbing the white hand still gripping the bedside.

Dírhael panted for breath as it grew worse. "Nooo!" he screamed feverishly. He twisted violently and Galad jumped up to hold him down. Dírhael's eyes rolled back into his head and groaned loudly.

Cadoresa returned with the tea and set it down as soon as she saw the scene. "Galad! What is happening? We need to send for a healer soon!" She rushed over to the bed and grasped their son's hand.

"Erumeldir!"

Galad struggled with his delirious son, his crazed fury making it hard to hold him.

"Don't leave me!"

"It is getting worse." Galad confirmed.

"Murderer!"

Cadoresa tightly held Dírhael's hand. "I promise we will not leave you, sweetie. No one is going to murder you! You are safe. Tarcil is dead. He cannot hurt anyone ever again." She gently stroked his sweaty head.

Glycin walked in the house once again, not bothering to knock since he did not want to disturb anyone. His gait slowed as he reached the bedroom and heard Galad and Cadoresa; if both were in there, things must be worse. "Galad? Cadoresa?" he asked, stepping in the doorway. "Is Dírhael worse?"

Looking at him with a tear-stained face, the heartbroken mother choked out her reply. "Yes. We need a healer or else I am afraid he may not make it."

Glycin's eyes widened. "I will go. Just give me some names and directions."

Cadoresa let her husband care for that bit and Glycin practically raced back to his home and saddled Crispin in record time. He pushed his steed onward for half a day and finally arrived in the specified village. It took longer than he liked to locate the home and he finally knocked on the door.

Tossing aside a stained parchment, the healer shuffled to the door, whereupon he saw a young man in evident haste.

* * *

Dírhael thrashed again, sweat pouring from his forehead. Gritting his teeth he tried to escape the wave of darkness behind him. "Dead," he moaned, "the dark, dying." The blackness churned at his feet. His fierce struggles abated, replaced by unintelligible rantings.

His mother squeezed his hand again, unwilling to let him go. "Dírhael! You are not going to die! You cannot die!" she sobbed. "We need you!"

* * *

"What is wrong?" the healer asked, knowing all too well the usual response.

Glycin looked at the man. "Please, I need you to come to Evendim at once." He quickly explained the situation while the healer gathered his things. The healer's wife and daughter, Cylliel, came up as Glycin explained.

"Papa, please, may I come with you?" Cylliel begged.

"No, dearest daughter. I need you to stay here in case someone has need of my services while I am away. You have learned quickly and I know you will take good care of our village."

"Yes, Papa, I will."

He kissed her on the forehead, then turned to his wife and caressed her, bidding both farewell.

Soon the healer and Glycin were off. The young man knew poor Crispin should rest, but he needed to get back to the farm, to Hopeful and Dírhael. Before it was too late. Even now it would be well past dark before he made it back.

"Here, take my horse!" the old man exclaimed when he saw Glycin about to mount his own steed, who looked rather worse for the wear. "Yours would never make it back. We would have to shoot it. It can rest here and you can come back for yours."

The men didn't bother to saddle either horse and raced off.

They galloped incessantly into the night until they came upon the cabin. The healer worked unremittingly through the night and even into the next day, grinding herbs, ordering boiling water, waving pungent salts under the young man's nose. Finally, about midday, the healer sighed and turned to the grieving family, who huddled in a corner watching him work ceaselessly on their son.

"I cannot do anything more for him," he apologized. "He likely will not survive the night. If the fever breaks and he wakes before dawn, he will survive. But that would take a miracle." He wrapped his cloak around him and shortly afterward the horse's hooves could be heard fading into the distance.

Galad held Cadoresa close as she wept and Glycin sat down by Hopeful, his heart too heavy to explain the doctor's message.

Dírhael lay on the bed, his face pale and drawn, the ceaseless murmurings silenced, perhaps forever. The four took turns sitting by the sick bed; watching, hoping, waiting. The afternoon passed into evening, evening into night. Around midnight, Glycin took up his post after refilling the glass of water. A low moan startled him from his thoughts and practically nonexistent hope.

"Dírhael," he called softly, "come on, come out of it! Come back. We need you." He looked expectantly at the still face, his visible eye still closed in deadly slumber.

Words faint and seemingly from a distance formed on Dírhael's lips. "I can't."

"Yes you can!" Glycin encouraged.

"The darkness…pulling me in."

"Fight it!"

"I was too late. I could have saved them. Let me go."

Glycin jumped up, his words growing stern. "But we need you! Think of your parents! Your sister! Fight!"

Galad and Cadoresa were woken by Glycin's shouts and they quickly rushed over to the bed.

"So…so dark…"

"Come on son," Galad urged.

Cadoresa squeezed her husband's arm tightly, watching her son struggle with death.

"Can't…"

"Dírhael," Cadoresa begged.

"Fight!"

"The dark…"

Glycin ran up to Hopeful's bed and brought her to the sick bed. He traced the words quickly on her hand and she knelt by Dírhael, taking his hand.

"Dírhael," she breathed.

Silence followed; Dírhael took a shuddering breath, then another, and another. His eye flickered open, the other veiled by the bandage. "Where am I?" he moaned.

Cadoresa ran to her son's other side. "Dírhael! My son! You are home, in your room, with us." She tenderly kissed his forehead, just as she had when he was but a wee little tyke. Brushing the hair from his good eye, she spoke again as her tears dripped onto the blankets surrounding her son. "I love you. I was so afraid we were going to lose you!" Her eyes now flooded with relief yet retained the sharp sting of grief in their deep blue depths. She covered his hand with both of hers, reluctant to let her remaining son go.

"I lost them." he sighed weakly. "If I had gotten there sooner…"

"No, sweetie, no!" Cadoresa cried. "If Astiwen had not left her sewing you would not have been there at all, and that evil Tarcil would still be running around murdering more people. At least I am guessing you killed him?"

"I do not know…all muddled." He closed his eye and tried to focus, but all was stained in blood and darkness. He shivered and opened his eye. "We talked...before," he choked a bit and coughed, unable to form his dear twin's name, "he died."

"Oh Dírhael, honey!" His mother sobbed full force. Finally she choked out, "What did he say?"

Glycin stepped over to Hopeful and silently told her what was going on, knowing she needed some semblance of closure.

"To protect the family," Dírhael sobbed, "that he had failed. I was the one to fail; they might still be here if I had come sooner."

Throwing her arms around him, Cadoresa embraced her son. "No, Dírhael, do not say that! Neither of you failed. Just think, he would have died alone had you not been there, and none of us could deal with that. You did all you could. I do not know why he and Astiwen had to die, when they had their whole lives ahead of them. But I do know it was not your fault, and you did the best you could. Sweetie, I blamed myself when my brother died. But your father, over the years, helped me see he made his own choices. He did and I cannot change that no matter what I do."

Tears shone in Glycin's eyes as he watched, listened, and signed everything that went on to Hopeful. He couldn't think of anything to tell Dírhael, except nod his head in agreement with Cadoresa.

"Son, it is not your fault! You cannot foresee the bad in this world. You cannot stop everything," Galad assured.

"Then why did I not die in their place? They had a future, a life ahead of them," Dírhael wheezed. "Surely I have naught ahead of me now."

Tears streamed down Cadoresa's cheeks. "Look at me, Dírhael." Her tone was firm yet full of her love for her remaining son. "We need you! I honestly do not know what you are feeling right now, since I never had a twin. I cannot even imagine what it is like. Think of your sister if no one else. If she feels anything like I did when my brother died, she needs you now more than ever. She has already lost one brother, and Astiwen. You, me, your father, and Glycin are the only people left for her. When Thandraug passed away and I finally found Gwerraent, I needed him. I would not have admitted it then, but having him there for me helped tremendously and we grew closer because of it. I know it is different since there are seven years between my oldest brother and I and we were never close like you and Hopeful are, at least not until we were shipwrecked." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Sweetie, it takes such a long time to heal from these things, and we never fully get better. But you can learn to live with the pain. We all will have to do this. You do have a future ahead of you! You just have to find it."

Glycin quickly told Hopeful to go and tell her brother she needed him.

Hopeful crossed over to the bed and knelt by Dírhael, laying her head on his hand. He smiled faintly and took a deep breath, grimacing as his side protested. Sleep overtook him, a deep sleep without dark dreams.

Galad stood up and grabbed his cloak. "I will be back in a few days with the chieftain."

Leaving her son's side, Cadoresa slipped her arms around her husband. "Be careful, sweetheart." She laid a long kiss on his lips before letting him go.

Glycin spoke up; Cadoresa had forgotten he was there. "I will help care for things around here while you are gone."

"Thank you, lad," Galad smiled wearily. He kissed Cadoresa one last time and left the house.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Dear Caladwen, Thank you so much for your reviews! Both of us appreciate it! Dírhael thanks you for the well-wishes. :)  
**_

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Learning to live again**

A week later Galad returned, the chieftain, his wife, and eldest son riding with him. Galad invited them into the house.

Cadoresa prepared lunch, Glycin sharped the slicing knives, and Dírhael lay restlessly on the bed with Hopeful sitting beside him. The Chieftain bowed to Cadoresa.

"I grieve your loss, ma'am," he said softly. "Here is a sufficient sum for a wergild. _ *****_ " He offered a bag of gold to her, his wife and son standing solemnly behind him.

A stern glare on her face and pain flashing in her eyes, Cadoresa took a deep breath to compose herself before shoving the offering back at him. "Chieftain Argonui, no amount of gold can ever replace my lost son and daughter-in-law. Tell me one thing: why did your son do this to us? Erumeldir and Astiwen had their whole lives ahead of them!" Her eyes flashed with grief and anger, even though she knew in her heart the chieftain grieved his own son and had nothing to do with the gruesome murders.

"I do not know, ma'am," the chieftain said, straightening.

"I do," young Arador stated, despite the sharp glance from his mother. "Tarcil vowed to kill the man who stole his bride. Later he began to plot your whole family's deaths. 'One at a time' he would laugh. 'You too, brother, if you do not keep your mouth shut.' In my fear, I let him bully me into silence. I am sorry."

Cadoresa's hand snaked out as she backhanded the startled young man on his right cheek. "Your silence cost us the lives of our son and daughter-in-law. Dírhael came close to death because of you. Get out of my house before I hurt you worse. You do not deserve to live either. May their bloodguilt ever be on your hands!" She glared at him, daring him to defy her.

Arador bowed and left the house, his mother following close behind. The chieftain sat the bag down on the table and turned out of the home. Galad hugged Cadoresa and Hopeful stared, confused. Dírhael was quiet and the darkness whirled in the back of his mind.

Emotionally exhausted, Cadoresa sobbed against Galad's chest.

Glycin, rather shocked at the display of passionate anger, made his way to Hopeful's side to try to explain things, although he himself didn't have words.

"Courage, sweetheart!" Galad whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Hopeful grabbed her paper and quill and wrote: _Dírhael is not well. Ask him what is wrong._

She handed the note to Glycin and he read it silently. Then he made his way to the bed. "Dírhael? What is the matter?"

"Nothing," Dírhael lied. "Just…my head."

Concerned, Glycin looked into the broken man's good eye. "Hopeful is concerned about you. I will get you some willow bark tea, but I know your pain is not just in your head and is something tea will not fix. I miss him too. Both of you, and Hopeful, have been the best friends I have had in a long time. Will you not tell me about it?"

"I am broken, Glycin, and I do not know how to put the pieces back together."

The man from Rohan sighed. "Will talking about it help? I am here to listen. Do you want that tea first?"

"Yes, thank you," Dírhael murmured.

Glycin returned shortly with the tea and the injured man drank it halfheartedly.

"It is like a piece of me is lost. Everything he ever said to me keeps playing over and over in my mind; and every time I feel less like myself."

"Dírhael, I honestly do not think you will be the same man you were before. But you can overcome this. I would gladly have died in both their steads, but here both of us are, alive."

Dírhael nodded. "Just tell Hopeful that I am fine."

His friend sighed again. "Dírhael, I cannot lie to her like that. She is hurting as much as you are." Pausing a minute, he wondered just what to say. "You know, sometimes people have to accept that something is not alright, but that fact is fine. It is a terrible thing that three people died, but if we just went on with life like normal that would not be right. Everyone needs their time to grieve, to process the events and accept them as something they cannot change."

"But I need to be strong for the others," Dírhael protested.

"Dírhael, you are being strong! Being strong does not mean you cannot feel sad or grieve. In fact, I think some of the strongest people are those who grieve the hardest. You did all you could do. Quit beating yourself up! This is not your fault and never will be. You can show your strength by letting your family know yes, something bad did happen, but you are not going to let it ruin your whole life. You have a future before you once you heal. You cannot find it if you refuse to forgive yourself. I know it is hard. I will always be haunted by the look in my mother's eyes as she breathed her last after making me promise to escape my brutal, abusive father." He paused and took a deep breath, letting out a small sigh. "I had to leave her lifeless body in our house. I have no idea if my father or someone else even gave her a proper burial! I blamed myself for not protecting her better." A small tear rolled down his cheek, and he made no effort to wipe it away. "But then I realized that I had done all I could do. She never blamed me for what happened; I was not the one who beat her senseless in a drunken rage. Just like you did not kill Erumeldir and Astiwen. You were there for him in the end, and I know he appreciated that." He could go no further, his voice too choked with emotion as his own memories rushed back and piled grief upon grief.

 _"Glycin, Glycin!" his mother had moaned as he stepped in the door, returning from farm work._

 _"I'm here, Mother!" he cried as he rushed to her side. Blood poured from her mouth where her broken ribs had punctured both her lungs. Her left arm hung at an awkward angle, broken in several places. Her right leg looked even worse, a bone poking up and through her skirt along her shin. "Mother, what happened?" He assessed her injuries as she spoke, her breathing labored._

 _"Your…father," she panted. "I...used my egg money for fabric. He...beat it...out of me."_

 _Leaving her side, he searched for some bandages, all the while keeping a lookout for his father. When he came back, his mother admonished him._

 _"Glycin, dear one," she reached her good arm up to lay her hand on his cheek. "You have to get away from here. It's too late for me."_

 _"Mother, no!"_

 _"Son, listen to me. My body is broken beyond repair." She coughed, wincing in her pain as she couldn't avoid the blood that came out and stained her bodice. "Leave word with the Rohirrim about Cyrith. They can keep her from coming back here, although I doubt she will, since she loved that man. Now promise me you will leave tonight!" His sister had been 16 when she ran away last year and they had not heard from her since then._

 _"Mother, I cannot leave you!"_

 _"Glycin, I'm dying! Your father has no mercy. You must leave. Please, promise me!"_

 _"Alright, Mother, I will." He took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his mother's bruised face. "I love you, Mother. I am so sorry I was not here to protect you!" Tears formed in his eyes as he blamed himself for the tragedy._

 _"Glycin, look at me!" Her voice was surprisingly strong. "It is not your fault. You cannot be by my side all the time. It would have happened sooner or later, with or without you here." She laid back and closed her eyes, exhausted from the effort of talking. Her breathing slowed as Glycin held her hand, the pressure against him rapidly decreasing. "Mother? Mother?" he asked, knowing full well she was dead when she let out a last, strangled cough. A loud crash sounded at the front door as his drunken father blundered his way inside. After a quick glance at his mother, he rushed out the back door and into the barn, where he saddled Crispin and rode like the wind, nothing with him but the clothes on his back. He wandered about until he arrived in Evendim. His journeying proved a necessary time to process the events and he learned not to blame himself for his mother's death._

Dírhael was silent as his friend reminisced, his gaze flickering on the ground. "I'm sorry," he rasped. "I did not mean to make it worse."

"No, I should not have brought it up. I am sorry. You did not need that, not now."

Dírhael smiled faintly. "Ask Hopeful when I can get up."

Glycin smiled as well and patted his friend's hand. "Now that I can do!"

He left the room and found Hopeful in the kitchen. "Dírhael needs some time. But he is rather anxious to get out of that bed. How long does he have to stay there?"

Hopeful's eyes widened and she marched over to the sick bed and placed a gentle, but restraining hand on Dírhael's chest. Her eyes spoke volumes. " _Move and I will kill you._ "

Dírhael managed a choky laugh and she smiled.

Glycin chuckled as well. "I guess that means you have to stay in bed a while longer!" His eyes turned serious again after that flash of mirth. "Is there anything I can get you?" He understood the longing hidden in his eyes, missing the fresh outdoors both men loved so well.

"Nay," Dírhael said. "I need nothing else."

Glycin gave a sad smile to his friend and exited the room to be replaced by Cadoresa. She had excused herself and gone to the room she shared with her husband. There she gathered her writing implements and sat down to compose a letter for her sweet daughter.

 _My dearest, precious daughter Hopeful,_

 _In our time of grief, I feel writing you is a better way to express my feelings on our great tragedy. I too grieve over Erumeldir and Astiwen; as I dwell on your relationship with him, I have been plagued with memories of my brother Thandraug. I know I have not told you much about him, only Gwerraent. Thandraug was two years older than I and we were very close, so much like you and Erumeldir. However, when we were captured by the corsairs to be sold as slaves and later shipwrecked, he died in my arms. I was completely devastated. The one person who had always been there for me, through all my best and worst times, was no longer with me. Not to mention that I was now alone on a strange island with no way to get back home. It seemed as though life could not go on, especially in those first few hours. Yet you know that is how I met your precious father. While nothing could ever replace my relationship with Thandraug, when I finally located Gwerraent the two of us became close through our shared grief. However, I know it is different with you since you have been close to both your sweet brothers, whereas Gwerraent always treated Thandraug and I as annoying little children. I dearly hope your relationship with Dírhael will become even better through our trial, and you have Glycin here for you, as well as your father and I._

 _What you cannot do is let your grief consume you like I did. I let myself become an angry, bitter person, taking out my anger on anyone who refused to conform to my ways. While I know you could never be like that, I do want to warn you it is possible. What I had to do was let go of my brother, accept the fact that he had left this world and would not come back. There was nothing I could have done to change things, as much as I wished I could and that I had died in his place. It was so hard to face that, and I needed several days, weeks even, to process his death before I could even think about recovering from it. But through Gwerraent and Galad's tender love and care for me, I slowly overcame my grief and realized I could go through life without him, even though it has never been the same. Honestly, it was quite painful for those weeks in Dol Amroth before my wedding. Everywhere I looked I was reminded of my dearly departed father and brother. As much as I missed Mother and Gwerraent, moving here with your father came as a welcome change and I have never regretted it._

 _Sweetheart, I am honestly still struggling with anger towards the chieftain's family. While I know they did not do anything, that it was only Tarcil, I cannot help but blame Arador for not speaking up. Please, find it in your heart to forgive them, because I cannot just yet. I believe over time I will calm down. Do not be like me, whatever you do. Your mother is such a failure. I am sorry, my sweet one._

 _I love you, Hopeful. Stay true to your name and keep up your hope. You know that all of us would do anything to take away your pain, yet that is something you must work through yourself, with our help, of course. Dear one, we will get through this together!_

 _From your loving,_

 _Mother_

Folding the paper, she got up and went back to Dírhael's room. She presented it to her daughter. "Hopeful, this is for you to read when you feel ready," she spoke slowly so Hopeful could read her lips, then embraced her as the all-too-common tears formed in her eyes.

* * *

 ***In case you are unfamiliar with the term, it refers to a sum of money given to a family by the members of the killer's family.**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Ahem! Reviews equal motivation. If you would like a chapter posted daily, or every other day, please review! If you don't, I forget you rely on me to put up the next chapter & then you're left hanging until something sparks my memory. Thank you!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Love Blossoms**

Two years of friendship and comfort went by as Glycin grew even closer to the family, especially Hopeful.

They continued making frequent retreats to her special place, where they liked to sit and talk and sometimes simply stay silent as they enjoyed the beautiful nature around them.

On a particularly nice sunny day with no clouds in the extraordinarily blue sky, they sat together on a rock in companionable silence, soaking up the warmth of the spring sun as it shone down upon them. As Glycin gazed at Hopeful, he realized for the first time how beautiful she was physically, having recognized her inner beauty from the moment she bound his leg onward. The sunlight caused her brown hair to shimmer, reminding him of his favorite site of the horses in Rohan, freely running together across soft green meadows. Erumeldir's words as they worked on their cabins haunted him as he soaked in her beauty.

 _"Glycin, you are a good and honorable man," he had said as they discussed the young woman. "If anyone is worthy of my sister, it would be you. Dírhael and I have worried that she might never be able to marry someone. We feared her deafness would keep a man from realizing her true worth. But I knew from the moment we met you were different. Thank you for taking her under your wing. She has come so far since she befriended you."_

 _"Erumeldir, I would have rescued anyone in that position. Her deafness does not change my thoughts towards her in the slightest. I love her, but as my friend."_

 _"Well, if you ever change your mind, you have my blessing on your marriage."_

 _Glycin laughed that comment off. "Erumeldir, you take things too far. Friendship is what I want and nothing more. Now we should get back to our work!"_

For the first time, he seriously thought about marrying Hopeful. Did she even want to marry? Would she allow him to court her?

"Hopeful, do you mind if we go back to your house? I have a matter I wish to discuss with your father."

Taking her hand, he led her back to the small home. She signaled she would be in the barn with their new kittens, and he smiled before turning to the house and stepping inside.

Galad and Cadoresa sat in the kitchen chatting while she tended to the daily kitchen tasks.

Rather nervous, Glycin cleared his throat before speaking as the two paused to look at him. "Galad, sir, might I ask you a question?"

"Yes, Glycin?" Galad asked.

Cadoresa smiled and took her leave, knowing the men needed some privacy.

"I…I am sure you can tell I have loved your sweet daughter ever since I met her. She has been like a sister to me. But I realized I want something more than just friendship with her. May I have your permission to make her my wife, if she will have me?"

"I have waited for this day since we found out she was deaf," Galad spoke. "Often I have wished a young man would see Hopeful for who she is and not her disabilities. You have my approval and blessings."

"Thank you!" Glycin jumped up and whooped, which sent Cadoresa rushing into the room.

"Whatever is wrong?"

"Nothing! Everything is so right! I want to ask Hopeful to marry me!"

"Really?" she squealed. "I have long awaited this day! If anyone is worthy of my daughter, it would be you."

"Erumeldir said those same words to me," he mused. "You think she will have me?"

"You must ask her that yourself."

"I will!" He excitedly made his way to the loft, where he expected her to be with the cats. After reaching the top of the ladder, he walked to her through the soft sweet-smelling hay, once again noticing her petite beauty as she sat with their animal friends. "Hopeful, can we talk a minute?" he asked. His gaze traveled over her beautiful face as he awaited her reply. She nodded in affirmation and he took the liberty to tenderly brush a stray tendril of hair from her eyes. "Hopeful, my sweetheart, I love you! Would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Hopeful felt the color rising. Glycin, marry her! She grabbed the ever present quill, ink, and paper. "Oh Glycin, but I cannot hear." The quill trembled over the paper.

"Hopeful, look at me." He tenderly tipped her chin up so she looked at him once more. He gazed deeply into her eyes as he spoke, slowly and clearly so she would understand. "I love you. Your inability to hear does not change who you are. You are the beautiful woman that I love and that I wish to marry. I shall have no other. But the choice is up to you. I will respect your wishes if you do not want to marry me." He took her hands and squeezed them, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Yes." The word was clear and strong.

Suddenly a bit shy, Glycin's collar felt tight and he tugged at it to loosen the lump in his throat. "May I..." he started, then cleared his throat and tugged his collar a bit more. "May I kiss you, dearest?"

She blushed, yet offered her cheek shyly.

Well, that wasn't quite the type of kiss he had in mind! He slowly drew her into his arms anyway and allowed his lips to gently brush her cheek, then her forehead. "I love you, Hopeful," he told her again. "Tell me, when can we get married?"

She shrugged her shoulders; she didn't know much on those matters.

Smiling, he squeezed her hand before taking the writing tools. "I am sure you will want a special dress made. I would say that will take a month at the most. You really should speak with your mother on the matter. However, I would prefer sooner rather than later!" He stopped writing a moment, then his eyes widened as a thought struck him and he furiously scratched at the paper. "Hopeful, I only asked your father's permission! Do you think Dírhael will be upset? I know he still grieves and I hate the thought of making things worse for him. Should I ask his permission too?"

"You can ask him but I do not think he will mind," she scribbled.

"I will! Erumeldir gave me his blessing before I knew I loved you. He must have instinctively known we belong together. I am proud you have accepted me to be your husband; I could not ask for a better wife! Your brother would have been so happy for us." Tears sprang in his eyes as he once again recalled that day long ago. He missed Erumeldir and Astiwen; life had not been the same since their deaths and never would be. He drew her into a quick hug as they both sat, remembering the sweet young couple and their murder.

Pulling away, he smiled again. "Now go talk with your mother...she is extremely excited!" He handed the paper back to her and couldn't resist giving her a quick peck on the cheek before descending the ladder and practically running to the fields where he expected Dírhael to be.

Hopeful ran back to the house, her eyes beaming joy.

Spotting a figure in the distance, Glycin strode forward and stood at the edge of the field, calling, "Halloo! Dírhael, I must speak with you!"

Dírhael glanced up then stopped the horses. "Hello!" he called, wiping his brow.

Once again slightly nervous, Glycin approached the sweaty man. "Dírhael, I want to get straight to the point. I have asked your father for permission to marry Hopeful, and now I am asking your blessing. Do you mind?" He looked at his friend, a worried expression on his face.

Dírhael looked up sharply, then one of his rare smiles transformed his face. "Of course not!" he grinned.

Glycin's entire face lit up. "Good! Because I just proposed to her and she said yes! I cannot tell you how happy I am."

"Congratulations!" Dírhael exclaimed.

"Thank you. Will you stand up for me?"

"I would be honored."

"Wonderful!" Glycin couldn't contain his smile, which grew wider by the minute as the shock and excitement slowly sank in. "I shall let you get back to work now. And I should see if my bride needs anything!"

"Goodbye!" Dírhael called before turning back to the plow.

* * *

Hopeful wrote furiously, the quill flying across the paper. She handed it to her mother, waiting anxiously for her reply.

Cadoresa couldn't help but laugh at her daughter's excitement. "Be patient!" She finally was able to write, "We will go into town tomorrow and pick out some fabric and sew your dress right away. You need to think about any refreshments you might want and make some things to use in your house. My daughter is getting married! Glycin has finally realized what a treasure you truly are."

Hopeful scanned the words, then hugged her mother.

Cadoresa drew her arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Then she looked up and smiled at Galad, all three family members the happiest they had been in two long years.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Hi everyone! I'm sorry it has taken so long to get back to posting! Just so you know, Part 2 is absolutely awesome and reminds me so much of my own love story, which occurred after the writing on this very long story, it's crazy and sweet and all that jazz! Please, please let us know how you like it!**_

* * *

 **Part 2**

 **Chapter 15: A Dance**

 _ **34 years later**_

* * *

Dírhael busied himself going on missions, leaving home for sometimes over a year at a time. The rest of the family hated having him away so often but knew that was how he coped with his grief, how he made something of himself to make up for everything his twin missed. Now he was on his way home for a while from yet another long mission.

Alcarin, a Dúnedain colleague, urged his horse forward beside Dírhael. "Why don't you come home with me tonight? There is a dance and lots of good food," he stated. "In the past ten years I've know you, you have not been to any social gatherings."

Dírhael contemplated the invitation. "I suppose," he drawled.

"Lots of food, fun, and pretty girls," Alcarin urged.

Dírhael smiled faintly. "If you insist."

"I insist."

"Well, I must head back over to the inn and put on a change of clothes. I will meet you at the village square," Dírhael informed.

Alcarin smiled at his success. It took a lot to pull Dírhael from his hermit-like ways. In the ten years that he had known the Ranger, Alcarin had only managed to learn that Dírhael had a sister, but that was all of his background Alcarin could discover. That and the fact that Dírhael had some abhorrence of the chieftain for some reason.

They met at the village square about an hour later and loped off to the west.

* * *

Ivorwen combed her long golden hair and glanced out the window. It was then she spotted the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life. Her heart stopped beating for a second, then pounded furiously. The way his pale sandy locks flowed freely in the soft breeze melted her heart. Then his face turned towards her, a deep sadness reflecting in his eyes. Her hand subconsciously stretched towards him, longing to give him the comfort he desired and needed. She scooted further into the open window and put her elbows on the sill, cupping her face in her hands as she gazed at him.

In her gift of foresight, she instinctively knew their futures were somehow meant to be together, though how she could not yet tell. She only needed to figure out a way to meet this mysterious man as he strode away. Sighing, she went back to combing her hair so she could arrange it for the dance that night.

* * *

"That is my father's house," Alcarin pointed to the grand home. "I would invite you in but they are probably at the dance already. Come on before we are late."

As they drew nearer the location Dírhael began to suspect something. "Alcarin…where is this dance?"

"Um…ahem…the chieftain's," Alcarin stuttered. "Look, I know you have something against him, but this is a dance…You won't have to talk or sit with him the whole night."

He noticed Dírhael's scowl come and then fade. "I guess you're right," the Ranger gave up.

Alcarin breathed a sigh of relief. "One night won't hurt you."

* * *

Meanwhile, Ivorwen had walked with her family a couple of hours after she beheld "Mr. Handsome-beyond-belief" to the chieftain's home, flanked by her older brother Eledhwen and younger brother Ohtar. Their youngest sister, Udele, stayed home with their seven nieces and nephews, rather uninterested in meeting young men at the moment.

Her parents stepped up to the door and were ushered inside the lavish home.

"Welcome!" the chieftain, Arador, and his wife greeted the family as they took their hands. Ivorwen smoothed her sapphire blue satin gown and hoped she looked alright as Ohtar led her to the dance floor. "Care to do this nêldringalilta* with me, milady?" he bowed, a comic grin on his face.

"Why not?" She laughed as he took her hand and began one of her favorite dances.

All too soon, the music ended and they returned to the sidelines. Ohtar looked around, spotting an attractive young woman with auburn hair and went to pursue the next dance with her.

Ivorwen got a glass of punch and settled beside her mother; she hated mholcas** and therefore would refrain from making herself available on this one. While she had a hard time securing a partner for every other dance, it was always the one she loathed where the men would ask her to join them

Sensing her daughter's silent struggle, Cylliel patted her hand. "You are beautiful, even if you do not think so. You just have not found the right one to appreciate that yet."

"But I do not feel beautiful! If I were truly gorgeous, I would not have to stoop to dancing with my own brothers and father, and the occasional older gentleman who takes pity on me! What is wrong with me? Here I am, thirty-three, and have yet to gain a suitor." She would have continued her rant had she not noticed the blonde man step through the doorway with Alcarin, looking rather uncomfortable. Her heart pounded and her stomach flipped over, the punch she had just sipped turning sour as she beheld the man of her dreams. Her breathing became heavy and she couldn't draw her eyes away as she fanned with her fancy blue satin fan. Her cheeks pinked, eyes wide as she gazed, unable to tear away. Staring has always been one of her faux pas and she made no move to change it.

"Are you alright?" her mother asked.

"Never been better!" she breathed, and Cylliel followed her gaze, then knew exactly what her daughter meant.

* * *

"Greetings," Chieftain Arador smiled as the two Rangers entered across the room from the young woman and her mother. "It is good to see you, Alcarin. Who is your friend?"

"This is Dírhael, sir."

"Have we met before?"

Alcarin glanced at Dírhael. He couldn't decide if the Ranger looked like he was going to walk out or punch the chieftain in the nose.

"I don't remember," Dírhael stated coldly.

They moved on a bit before Alcarin spotted his family. He introduced Dírhael to his father and brothers.

"My mother is over here, and my oldest younger sister," he chatted. "My youngest sister is at home with my children, probably."

They approached an older woman and girl sitting together.

"Mother. Ivorwen. This is Dírhael, my latest traveling companion." Another lady walked up and placed her hand on Alcarin's shoulder, and he turned to smile broadly at her. "Ahh! And this lovely young woman is my wife, Zara."

The couple embraced. "You're home at last," Zara breathed.

Dírhael bowed to the three women and strolled over to get a drink, a bit flustered at the beautiful blonde woman. He had evidently been out on the North Downs far too long. Finding a woman so physically attractive was not something he had even thought about in a long, long time. Alcarin nudged him as he got a drink for his wife.

"That is my sister," he pointed to the young woman. "She doesn't get asked to dance except for us brothers, even though she is the best dancer at all the balls. Do me a favor and go dance with her. Go on!" He gently pushed his friend in her direction, winking. "She doesn't bite!"

Dírhael walked nervously over to the young woman…Ivorwen. "May I have this dance?"

Looking from side to side, Ivorwen noticed she was the only woman standing in the near vicinity, and there before her was the handsomest man in the world! Raising her right hand, she pointed a finger to her chest. "Me?" Her heart pounded so furiously she thought it might fly from her body at any given moment as she awaited his verification.

"There is no one else here," Dírhael smiled. He took her hand and gently pulled her into the dance.

His hand felt deliciously warm in her cold one, now sweaty with her excitement. As they began to dance, she noticed he seemed uncomfortable with the movements, as if he had not had much practice. She unconsciously frowned a bit, taking the lead even though that was supposed to be the man's job. She should have known better than to expect him to be any different than the other men with whom she danced.

He held her at a chaste distance and she used the opportunity to study his face better. A bit older and more seasoned than she first thought, he was by far the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. Even the small, faint scar on his temple above his left eye added a sort of daring flare to his demeanor. She wondered how he got that scar; she too bore one on her face, a faint groove almost exactly in the middle of her forehead that, thankfully, wasn't noticeable unless one looked closely. Shaking herself as the music stopped, she smiled as they left the dance floor. "Thank you! Have you danced much?"

"A little," he answered. "I'm Dírhael, by the way." He realized how stupid this was since Alcarin had introduced them. Perhaps a fever was developing, since his brains were addled and he couldn't think straight, not while looking at her. He found it embarrassing that she danced far better than him. Leave it to him to screw things up right off.

"Ivorwen," she smiled with her lips only as he accompanied her to the refreshment table, dissatisfied with his vague reply. "So, how did you and Alcarin meet? I don't recall seeing you here at a ball before."

"We were assigned together and became friends, and we requested to be placed together. Although," Dírhael hesitated, "he prefers longer stints of time between missions than I do. I have never been to a ball before," he admitted.

"Alcarin likes coming home to his wife!" she laughed, relieved to get a bit more information. "And that does explain why I hadn't seen you before. I attend practically every ball. You can probably tell I love dancing. Although it is frustrating at the same time."

"Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He sipped at the punch; the food was almost too delicate for the Ranger.

An expression of sadness washed over her face and a tinge of bitterness colored her voice. "Look, I think it is terribly good of you to humor my brother by asking me to dance, even when you didn't want to. I know that there's something dreadfully wrong with me, because no one ever wants to dance with me. But for some reason, they all try to get me to dance the mholca with them, the one dance I utterly loathe and despise with all my being!"

"He asked me to dance _one_ round with you." A faint smile traced his lips. "But I ask you if you will dance again?"

"You mean you _want_ to dance with me?" Her heart pounded and her insides squeezed together, all too familiar a reaction when she developed a crush on someone.

"Yes," he stated, taking her hand. The next dance was a nêldringalilta and the slow music seemed to soothe Dírhael's restless heart.

Ivorwen's heart leaped with joy. Maybe he did actually want to dance with her. Then again he could just be putting on politeness for her brother's sake. Alcarin somehow managed to get people to do things for him, even when they did not want to do them. She once again noticed his awkwardness. It would help if he would hold her closer and loosen his posture a bit, to relax and enjoy himself. She wanted him to do more than allow her to turn every once in awhile; if she only had someone as skilled as she, there were hundreds of beautiful stylistic moves they could make together. He evidently truly had not danced for a long time and likely had never had formal lessons like she had been blessed with all her life. Despite everything working against him, he danced well for a beginner and showed great skill that longed to shine forth once he became more comfortable.

"Thank you!" she beamed at her new friend after the music died away.

"You're welcome." Dírhael bowed slightly.

Another mholca was played and then a lively piece. Five other songs followed, two of which he danced with Ivorwen.

The evening wore on, then Alcarin saw Dírhael saddling his horse. "The night is young and you are leaving?" he asked.

"Tell your sister that she is a good dancer," Dírhael answered, avoiding Alcarin's question.

"I will see you tomorrow?" Alcarin inquired. "Don't you run off."

"I won't," Dírhael promised, leaping into the saddle.

Alcarin shook his head and returned to the party as Dírhael disappeared down the road.

* * *

Ivorwen had never had so much fun at a dance in her life. Eledhwen nabbed her for a minuet and she missed the handsome blonde Ranger's exit. Her older brother smiled knowingly at her. "I see you have finally met someone!"

"Met someone? What, pray tell, do you mean?"

He chuckled. "You know who I mean. That handsome blond Ranger Alcarin introduced you to."

"Oh him. His name is Dírhael. You don't know him, do you?"

"No, I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure. You know we rarely cross paths, Alcarin and I, since we are skilled differently."

They chatted some more until the dance came to an end, her brother sensing her attraction even through her evasive answers. Yet another foul mholca started. Ivorwen grabbed her best friend Rícan and dragged her out into the gardens behind the house. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes. You know I love watching you dance. You are so graceful. And it is nice to have an evening without my son, as much as I love and miss him."

"He is a sweetheart but sometimes a handful," Ivorwen smiled.

"Now you tell me about that dashing Ranger!" Rícan demanded, smiling.

"Dashing Ranger? You are aware this whole dance is full of Rangers, both handsome and comely?"

"Yes. You know who I mean. I see that little sparkle in your eye. What is his name?"

"Well, in the top five are Alcarin, Eledhwen, and Ohtar," Ivorwen smirked.

"The golden-haired one who looked a bit uncomfortable dancing and could not match your steps like your brothers can."

"Alright, you win. His name is Dírhael. He was uncomfortable dancing. I do not think he has much experience. And he was rather quiet. It was a bit awkward just to dance, but he concentrated on the music so hard I was afraid to try to get him to talk more. Not to mention he did not seem to want to reveal much about himself." Ivorwen sighed and gave her friend a sad look.

"Time will tell. Come, we should go back in before we are missed. The mholca should be finished now." The best friends embraced and walked back inside, making their way to their families.

Alcarin had also returned and approached his sister. "Dírhael had to leave early."

Her face fell. All good dreams had to come to an end.

Sensing her slight distress, he laid a hand on her shoulder. "He wanted me to tell you he thinks you are a good dancer. He is not a man who gives compliments lightly!"

"He said that about me?" She could hardly believe her ears and perked up.

"Yes! Come, take your mind off things by dancing with me."

The rest of the night was spent dancing with her male family members and once with chieftain Arador. When Ivorwen found herself back in her chambers in the wee hours of the morning, she found she could not sleep from the night's excitement.

* * *

*This dance is very similar to a waltz & is in ¾ time. I made up the name using Sindarin elvish; I think it ended up being "three-beat dance" or something along those lines.

**The mholca is similar to a polka. I believe it's the Finnish name for polka (but perhaps Welch).


End file.
